Shadow Stalker: Advent of a Hero
by ack1308
Summary: An AU where Taylor is in the alleyway instead of Emma. She triggers there, with a different set of powers. In the aftermath, Shadow Stalker has to face the consequences of her inaction, deal with her feelings about this new parahuman, and ask herself searching questions about her own philosophy of life. An exploration of the concept of a Taylor Hebert/Sophia Hess romance.
1. Chapter 1

**Shadow Stalker - Advent of a Hero**

* * *

_[Author's Note: This story is set in the Wormverse, which is owned by Wildbow.]_

___[Author's Note 2: I will accept any legitimate criticism of my work. However, I reserve the right to ignore anyone who says "That's wrong" without showing how it is wrong, and suggesting how it can be made right.]_

* * *

Introduction

* * *

Taylor struggled.

* * *

Just moments before, she had been chatting to her father about why it was okay that she hadn't been able to make it to summer camp this year. And then, the side street, the dumpster, the van blocking the street.

"Hold on," he'd said grimly, and rammed his foot to the floorboards. The old engine had roared gamely; the truck leaped forward at the barrier ahead. But then there came a lurch as both front tyres burst; the truck began to swerve. Danny fought with the wheel for a split second, then the back tyres went as well.

_Spike strip_, Taylor had thought fleetingly.

The truck had gone entirely out of control then, the tyres mushy on the rough asphalt. The swerve continued inexorably, Danny still fighting with the wheel, stamping on the brakes. Neither action seemed to do much good.

The truck had rammed into a brick wall; the impact was tremendous. The engine stalled. Danny slumped forward over the wheel, stunned. Taylor had hit her head, but she was still mostly aware of what was going on.

The truck door had been wrenched open, and hands grabbed at Taylor. She was dragged from the vehicle, unable to resist, unable to think.

"Fuck," said one of the guys. "Is it a boy or a girl?"

She struggled, uselessly.

Rough hands pulled at her clothing, reached inside, mauled at her. She screamed.

"Well, it's apparently a girl," grinned one of the gang members, a girl with green eyeshadow.

"Taylor!" she heard her father call. _"Taylor!"_

She was forced to her knees. "You're on our turf, bitch," growled the one-eyed gang member holding her. "Pay toll."

"Toll?" she croaked.

"A little sucky, a little fucky," sneered the guy. The girl beside him gave him a shove. "Oh yeah, Yan wants a good eating out as well."

"You service us all," said Yan, licking her lips, "you go on your way."

"No," mumbled Taylor. "Please, no."

At that moment, she saw the cloaked figure, crouching on the roof of the truck. Her eyes met those of the girl behind the metal hockey mask. _Help me_, she tried to say, but the words would not come.

She heard her father's voice again. It seemed very far away. She was forced to all fours. The one-eyed guy was behind her, pulling her pants off her hips.

_Oh god oh god oh god_

* * *

The world went away.

Taylor didn't know where she was. It was dark; distant points of light were all she could see. And then two great creatures swam into view, trailing spicules of some sort of material behind them. One such shard hove into view, heading straight at her.

It struck her, pierced to her core.

She didn't even have time to wonder why she wasn't breathing.

* * *

The world came back. The cloaked figure seemed to be slumped, unmoving, on top of the truck cab. She felt her panties being pulled off her hips.

_"No!"_

She struggled against the arms holding her down. Wrenched free. Shoved one of them. He went backward, falling and skidding on the asphalt. She came to her feet, wrenching her pants up into place again. The one-eyed man grabbed her by the arms; she spun around, breaking his grip, then punched him. He went over backward, blood flying from his nose. The girl moved fast toward her, a slim blade in her hand.

Taylor had been acting on instinct up till now; she tried to jump back, didn't move fast enough. A flash of light on steel, the edge raking across her belly, cutting her shirt. A sharp pain, blood staining her shirt.

She gasped, put her arm across the wound. The girl snarled in triumph. Taylor lurched forward, punched her with her free hand; it felt like a feather-blow. The girl sailed away from her fist, clearing the truck and smashing into the brick wall beyond. She fell out of sight, leaving a bloodstain on the wall.

Gradually, her vision cleared. She looked around. The cloaked figure was looking up from the last of the gang members, slumped on the ground. Danny was climbing dazedly from the truck.

Her stomach hurt. She moved her arm gingerly; nothing seemed to spill out. The cut stung like fire, but she thought it was only superficial. Hoped it was.

The cloaked girl stepped toward her. "That was fucking _awesome!"_ she enthused.

Taylor stared at her. "Why ...". She swallowed, and tried again. "Why didn't you help me?"

* * *

Shadow Stalker didn't speak for a moment. The girl was taller than her, and skinnier. Long, long legs. Big round glasses, huge tragic eyes behind them. She felt ... something. A stirring. She didn't know what it was.

The girl took another step toward her, arm pressed against the superficial wound in her stomach. It wasn't bad; Sophia could tell from the way she moved. No impairment.

"Well?" the girl demanded. "That bastard was about to _rape_ me. And you did nothing."

Sophia grinned behind her mask, shrugged a little. She had her philosophy, but all of a sudden, looking into that serious long face, she felt a lot less sure of its validity.

"I ... wanted to see who you were?" she ventured.

* * *

Taylor stared.

"You fucking _what?"_she asked.

The dark-cloaked figure, shorter than her, repeated her words. "I wanted to see who you were."

Taylor shook her head. "Oh, you have to be fucking _kidding,"_ she growled. She reached out with her free hand and grabbed the cloaked figure around the neck.

"What the fuck does that even _mean?"_ she shouted.

* * *

Sophia was startled when the girl grabbed her by the throat. She was strong – she'd just _punched_ that girl over the truck – but strength meant nothing when you could just ghost away from your problems.

She went to shadow form. _Easy as pie._

Only, she couldn't move. Was held in place. The girl still had a grip around her throat.

She didn't have to breathe, but …

_How the fuck is she holding me?_

And then she felt pressure. Actual. Pressure. _This is _**_impossible_**_. Shit, I'm in shadow form and she's _**_squeezing _**_my _**_throat_**_!_

* * *

When the cloaked girl went a little fuzzy around the edges, Taylor was mildly startled, but she still had hold of her. She squeezed a little, experimentally. _Yeah, still got her._

"I can squeeze harder," she growled. "Stop doing whatever you're doing, and _answer my fucking question."_

* * *

Sophia reverted to human form.

"How are you doing this?" she husked.

"Answer my question first," the girl snapped. "What does that even mean, you wanted to see who I was?"

"Uh, it's about living and dying, survivor and loser. Predator and prey," Sophia said quickly, working to get the words past the grip on her throat. The girl loosened up slightly – _she's got me helpless with only one fucking hand!_ – and Sophia found she could speak more easily.

* * *

"Make sense sometime soon," said Taylor. Her voice was dead level; she didn't have to articulate the 'or else'. She saw Danny standing dazedly, watching her. There was blood on his forehead.

"Uh, if you fight back, you're a survivor. If you don't, you die. I wanted to see which one you were," said the girl rapidly.

Taylor lifted her arm away from the gash in her stomach. "I fought back and I got _this!"_ she screamed. "I could have _died! _Does that look like the act of a survivor to _you?"_

She pushed the costumed girl away from her; sending her sprawling. Turning, Taylor stumbled toward her father; he met her halfway.

"Taylor, oh my god, are you okay?" he gasped.

"My stomach hurts," she said, and collapsed.

* * *

Daniel Hebert carried his unconscious daughter three blocks until he found a working pay-phone, and called the police. When they arrived, he directed them to the site of the attack. All of the gang members were gone, but the truck was still there, with burst tyres.

Danny and Taylor were taken to the hospital, where both were treated for head trauma and bruising. Taylor was also treated for a shallow knife-wound across her stomach, not deep enough to be serious.

A shadowy figure paced them all the way, on the rooftops.

* * *

Two weeks later, feeling much recovered, Taylor went back. She carried pepper spray and a knife under her coat, but she had a feeling she would not need either.

She looked over the site where the attack had taken place. The truck had been towed away, there were no longer any unconscious bodies, but the place was still the same. She shivered.

_I nearly got raped here. I nearly _**_died _**_here._

_What the hell am I doing, coming back?_

"You were right."

She whirled. The voice was quiet, the figure almost invisible, in a dark corner of the alley.

"Who are you? What do you want?" demanded Taylor.

"I want to apologise," said the girl, stepping out of the shadow. "You were right. I was being an idiot. I'm … I'm sorry."

Taylor got the impression this girl did not say those words very often. But why was she saying them, to Taylor, now …

Memory clicked into place. Same body type, same place. "You're _her_!" she snapped.

The girl nodded. "Yeah," she said. "It's me. I'm her." She took her hands out of her jacket and walked up to Taylor. "So hit me. Kick me. Do whatever you want. I won't stop you."

Taylor stared at her. She was dark-skinned, and so pretty, almost cute. And her large brown eyes looked at Taylor's so sadly.

"But … why?" she asked.

The girl stared her in the eye. "Because I would have let that happen to you. Because I thought I was doing the right thing. Because I was being a moron."

Taylor slapped her. She didn't use more than one or two levels of amp, so the slap only spun the girl around; it didn't break her neck or send her flying.

* * *

Sophia went to one knee, holding her hand over her cheek. _Christ,_ she thought. _That nearly took my head off. And I think she was holding back._

And then she felt hands helping her up. "Come on," said the girl. "Get up. I'm over it now."

Through watering eyes, she stared at the girl. Accepted the hand up.

"I'm Sophia," she said.

"Actually," said the other girl, "let's start again." She held out her hand. "Hi, Sophia, I'm Taylor. How are you doing?"

Sophia shook it, head still spinning. "Fine. I'm pleased to meet you, Taylor."

Taylor smiled. "So, wanna get something to eat?"

Sophia smiled back. "Love to."

* * *

The two girls sat outside the street cafe, eyeing each other curiously. Neither spoke until the food had arrived, and not for a little time after that.

"Okay, I'll bite," said Taylor at last, after chewing and swallowing a calamari ring. "Why?"

Sophia looked at her while she took a drink from her shake. "Why what?" she asked.

Taylor bit into another calamari ring. "Why the whole predator/prey mindset? We're human beings, not animals. Surely to God we've evolved past that bullshit."

Sophia very nearly snorted her drink out through her nose. As it was, she coughed and choked, and Taylor had to slap her on the back.

"Sorry," she said eventually, her eyes streaming. "But you just invoked religion and evolution in the same breath. It just sounded funny, is all."

Taylor grinned, her mouth wide, her eyes large behind the round glasses. "I guess I did, didn't I?"

Sophia barely heard her. She could hardly take her eyes off of Taylor's face for a moment. It was like she was seeing the taller girl for the first time, as if the lines and planes of her face had just fallen into an ideal pattern, formed some perfect image, matching a template buried deep within Sophia's subconscious.

"Sophia?"

She blinked and shook her head. Taylor was looking at her oddly.

"Sorry," said Sophia. "I think I zoned out there for a minute."

"Well, yeah," Taylor agreed. "You feeling okay? I _did_ hit you a bit hard, there."

Sophia nodded, cautiously feeling the side of her face. She tasted blood from the inner side of her cheek, where her teeth had cut it. It felt like there was some swelling, but it wasn't going to be too bad.

"Nah, I'm good," she said. "But I'm not going to piss you off again in a hurry. You hit like a fucking freight train."

Taylor grimaced. "Sorry. I only meant to use normal strength. An extra level of amp just … crept in there." She picked up her sandwich, took a bite.

"Amp?" asked Sophia. "What's that?"

"It's what I call ... what I can do," confessed Taylor. "It's probably a stupid name. There's probably something better I can call it, but I just call it that."

"But why 'amp'? What does it mean?"

"Ah," said Taylor. "It's short for 'amplitude' or 'amplification'. When I need more ... well, strength, or durability, basically, I just amp myself up. I get stronger, tougher, denser." She frowned. "But it's weird. I don't get any heavier."

"Okay, I get that," said Sophia, taking a bite of her burger. "Basic Brute power. But how the hell can you still grab me when I'm in shadow form?"

Taylor raised an eyebrow. "Shadow form?"

Sophia stared at her. "When I go all ghosty? I can walk through walls? Nothing can touch me, except electricity, while I'm in that form. But what you do isn't electricity. It's like ... I haven't changed form at all. Like you're _ignoring_ the fact that I've changed."

"Huh," said Taylor. "I didn't know. All I saw was you sort of went fuzzy around the edges."

Sophia blinked. "So I don't even look ghostly to you?"

"Not really," said Taylor. "Should you?"

Sophia nodded. "It's what everyone else says."

Taylor shrugged. "Then I have no idea."

They chatted for a while longer, then parted ways, each heading back home. Sophia gave Taylor her mobile number; Taylor gave Sophia her home number.

* * *

Sophia called up a week later.

Danny answered the phone. "Hebert household, Danny speaking."

_"Hi, this is Sophia. Is Taylor there, please?"_

"Uh, sure. Hold on a moment."

He put the phone down, went upstairs. "Taylor?" he said, knocking on her bedroom door. "Phone call for you. Someone called Sophia?"

She looked up from the book she was reading. "Sophia?" It took a few seconds to place the name. "Wow, really?" She rolled off the bed and trotted downstairs.

* * *

Sophia sat on the rooftop with her mobile to her ear. She heard the phone being picked up. _"Hello?"_ came Taylor's voice. _"Sophia?"_

"Yeah," said Sophia. "It's me. How've you been?"

_"Oh, so-so. I keep getting accosted in dark alleys by girls in weird costumes."_

"Oh, ha ha," said Sophia. "It was only the once, it was broad daylight, and I wasn't in costume."

She could hear the grin in Taylor's voice. _"Yeah, but it sounded good. So what's up?"_

"Oh, nothing much," she said, trying to sound casual. "I'm out on patrol right now. I was thinking, once I finish up here, we could go out, get a bite to eat?"

* * *

"Actually," said Taylor, "I've got a better idea. How about you drop around? We can always set an extra place for dinner."

_"Um, sure,"_ said Sophia. _"That'd be great. If your dad's okay with it, I mean."_

"Wait one," said Taylor. Holding the phone to her chest, she called out to Danny. "Dad, is it okay if Sophia comes over tonight?"

"Remind me," he said. "Who's this Sophia? One of Emma's friends?"

"No," she replied. She suddenly realised that she hadn't told him about the meeting with Sophia. "She's someone I met awhile ago. She's nice."

_Well, she's trying hard to be nice,_she told herself. _Making the effort._

Much later, she would wonder why she never asked herself why, at the time.

* * *

_"Sure, Dad says it's okay,"_ Sophia heard Taylor say. _"Any time between seven and eight is good."_

She felt her heart unaccountably leap in her chest. "Sure," she said, trying to maintain the casual attitude. "I'll be there."

She was about to continue the conversation, but then she heard a cry of distress. "Whoops, gotta go. See you then."

_"Later,"_ said Taylor, but Sophia was already hanging up. She leaped across the rooftops in the direction of the call.

* * *

Taylor hung up the phone and looked around at her father. "Thanks, Dad," she said. "I think she's kinda lonely, doesn't have many friends."

"What, like you?" grinned Danny, ruffling her hair.

She grinned back and ducked her head. "Well, if I make friends with all the kids who don't have friends of their own," she pointed out, "we'll all have friends."

"Your point is valid," he said. "So, an extra place for dinner, huh? Did she say what time she'd be turning up?"

Taylor shrugged. "When she could?" she hazarded.

"Thank you, Captain Precise," Danny retorted. "Okay, we'll put hers in the oven until she gets here."

She smiled and hugged him. "Thanks, Dad," she said.

He hugged her back; they were doing this more often, these days. "Anytime, kiddo," he said.

She went to the sofa, and continued to read her book. He started dinner.

* * *

Three teenagers wearing gang colours – Merchants, by the look – had cornered a woman with a baby in a stroller and a teenage boy in an alleyway. They closed in, tossing knives from hand to hand and indulging in the usual unimaginative gang trash talk. The baby in the stroller bawled, while the other two shrank back against the wall.

_Come on,_ thought Sophia, _fight back. Show you're survivors, not losers._

But then she recalled Taylor's words of a week ago. _We're human beings, not animals. Surely to God we've evolved past that bullshit._

And she leaped, turning to shadow in midair as she fell toward the unsuspecting Merchants below.

* * *

"So where are you going to high school at the end of the break, Sophia?" asked Danny.

"Not sure," admitted Sophia. "Mom would like to see me in Arcadia, but it's looking more like Winslow, given the money situation."

_"I'm_ going to Winslow," said Taylor. "I'm sure it's not all that bad."

"You _do_ know that the ABB and Empire Eighty-Eight recruit from Winslow, right?" asked Sophia.

"Yeah," said Taylor airily, "but that's okay. I'm not Chinese, and I don't care about skin colour. Plus, I like to keep my head down anyway."

"What she's _saying,"_ said Danny dryly, "is that her friends are going to Winslow, and so even though her grades are good enough to get her into Arcadia, she's choosing to go to Winslow anyway."

"Well, if it's good enough for you, it's good enough for me," replied Sophia with a grin.

* * *

Later that evening, they stood outside the house, as Sophia prepared to leave.

"Your dad's pretty cool," Sophia commented.

"He is," agreed Taylor.

"You haven't told him about me, have you?" Sophia noted.

Taylor shook her head. "That's between you and him. Not my business."

Sophia nodded. "Thanks. I appreciate it."

"Actually, you know," said Taylor. "If you joined the Wards, they'd probably sponsor you into Arcadia."

Sophia stopped and thought about that.

"…nah," she said at last. "If you can hack Winslow, I can hack Winslow."

Taylor grinned, her teeth white in the darkness. "Take care, Soph." She hugged the shorter girl.

Sophia was more than a little surprised by the hug. But the hug was nice. Really nice. It had been a long time since she had been hugged by anyone other than her mother. It was a novel sensation. Cautiously, she hugged Taylor back. "You too, Taylor," she said.

And then she was gone, a shadow on the wind.

* * *

Six days later, the phone in the Hebert household rang, at about a quarter past eleven in the evening.

Danny considered letting it ring, then cursed himself even as he stumbled out of bed and made his way downstairs. He answered the phone in a fairly bad temper.

"Danny Hebert here. This had better be important."

_"Mr Hebert,"_ he heard. _"Please … help. It's … it's Sophia."_

Danny blinked, his temper draining away. "Sophia … ah, you came over for dinner? What's the matter? Why are you calling us?"

_"I'm hurt,"_ came the laboured answer. "_Can you come get me? Taylor can explain on the way."_

* * *

Still in her flannel pyjamas, Taylor nursed the large first-aid box as the truck bounced and rattled toward the destination. Danny peered at the road ahead with fierce concentration, but was able to somehow carry on the conversation as he did so.

"So you're saying that she's the same one who stood by and let us be attacked last month," he said. "Let you almost get cut open."

Taylor sighed. "She's changed, Dad," she said. "She told me she's really, really sorry."

"Well, she seemed nice enough when she came over for dinner," allowed Danny. "And she sounded pretty desperate over the phone."

Taylor nodded. "She's really independent. Doesn't want to join the Wards. It must have cost her a lot to call for help like this."

Danny pulled the truck over and they got out. Taylor's slippers were inadequate for the rough ground, so she tossed them back into the truck.

He frowned. "There's broken glass and worse around here, kiddo," he warned.

She nodded. "I'll just amp up a bit, then," she said. There was no visible change, but her movements became subtly more ponderous, more stately.

* * *

They found Shadow Stalker backed into a corner, down on one knee, a blood-stained cloth bound around one leg. She had both crossbows out, threatening a semi-circle of gang members who were slowly advancing on her.

"Stay back, Dad," said Taylor quietly. She gathered herself and amped up as hard as she could, then leaped.

It seemed like it only took a tap of her foot on the ground and she floated away like a feather. Danny looked down at the four-inch depressions in the asphalt that she'd left behind.

* * *

Sophia was starting to think she'd really have to shoot someone when the brightly-clad form, dressed in flannel pyjamas of all things, dropped out of the sky and landed three paces in front of her. The impact drove dust upward all around, and sent cracks radiating outward through the asphalt.

Taylor grinned at Sophia, tipped her a wink, then turned to the gang members. Keeping her face down so that the single overhead streetlight put her features in shadow. "Okay," she said. "Who's first?"

One of the gang members – Merchants, Taylor thought – rushed forward, swinging a pry-bar. Taylor put her hand up, almost in slow motion, and caught it. Despite the fact that she was about half his size, it stopped, ringing with the impact, at her palm. Gently, she deprived him of it, and tied it in a knot, dropping it to the ground thereafter.

Half the Merchants started moving away at this point. Flannel pyjamas or not, cute round-lensed glasses or not, someone who could jump or fly like that, and could bend steel in their bare hands, was not worth messing with.

One of the remainder pulled a pistol. Taylor saw it, and shoved on all the amp she could manage. As he fired, she held up her hand in a desperate warding gesture.

By sheer fluke, she felt the stinging impact on her palm, and closed her hand.

When she opened it, there was a round red mark in the middle of her palm, and the flattened bullet lay beside it.

She took the bullet, held it up, and crushed it flat between finger and thumb. Then she took a step forward; her foot seemed to come down lightly, but it crushed its way through an inch of asphalt and the reverberations of the impact seemed to echo for several seconds.

"Next," she grated, the word taking a second or so to say.

They bolted.

Taylor let the amps fall away; the ringing in her ears stopped, and she felt her heart speed back up to its normal rhythm. The feeling of compression, of sheer inertia, also fell away, until she was moving almost normally.

"Okay," she said to Shadow Stalker, "let's have a look at that leg."

Sophia was staring at her.

"What?" asked Taylor, as Danny hurried forward with the first-aid kit.

"You _caught_ a _bullet,"_ said Sophia. "How the fuck did you do _that?"_

"Uh, put my hand in the way?" said Taylor. "Stung like a bitch, though."

"Uh, girls?" said Danny. "As the only non-powered person here, how about first aid now, power analysis later?"

"Uh, yeah," said Taylor. "Sorry, Dad."

She knelt down in front of Sophia and helped her take the makeshift bandage off.

* * *

Three days later, Sophia sat opposite Taylor at a table in the food court of the Weymouth Mall. Her crutches leaned against her seat.

"So how's the leg going?" asked Taylor.

"Can't wait to get back to kicking ass and taking names," grumped Sophia. She frowned. "How about you? Thought of a name yet?"

Taylor shook her head. "Breaker, maybe. Amp? Something like that. But … I'm not really sure I want to do that."

Sophia grinned. "It would be great to have you out and about with me. Backup is always nice."

She couldn't stop staring at Taylor. It wasn't just her face. It was her whole attitude. She was … _confident_. In a way that not many people could pull off.

Taylor shook her head. "Could you imagine me in a skintight outfit?"

Sophia could, actually. It formed some of her night-time fantasies.

Taylor decided to change the subject. "So, I've been meaning to ask. How long _have_ you had your powers?"

"Oh, about a year," said Sophia. She took a drink from her slurpee. "Dad and I were out to see a movie; we were cornered by some Merchants. They wanted to rape me." She shuddered, lowered her head. "Sorry."

Taylor covered Sophia's hand with her own. "It's okay. You fucked up, we got past it, you apologised, I slapped you."

Sophia grinned. "I couldn't eat with that side of my mouth for two days." She didn't move her hand from under Taylor's.

Taylor rolled her eyes. "I _said_ I was sorry."

Sophia grinned and shook her head. "I still don't get it with your powers. How does that shit work, anyway?"

Taylor took a deep breath. "I'm not really sure. All I know is, when I need … more, I can get more. If I'm really angry or really upset, I can overtop what I need, but it doesn't usually undersell."

"Like when you punched that girl," Sophia said. "That was fucking _awesome."_

Taylor shook her head. "I think I might have killed her."

Sophia stared. "She tried to kill _you!"_

Taylor took hold of Sophia's hand. Sophia caught her breath; Taylor didn't seem to notice. "It's not the same, Sophia," she said earnestly. "We shouldn't kill if we have any other option. That's why I just frightened the Merchants off. I didn't need to hurt them; I just needed them gone."

"So, we just let the bad guys go now?"

Taylor shook her head. "No. We need an in-between option. Between 'useless' and 'splat'. My strength tends to scale to my need. So I need to learn not to get angry in a fight."

"Otherwise you might end up putting your fist _through_ someone, gotcha," agreed Sophia.

Taylor shuddered. Sophia squeezed her hand. Taylor looked at her, slightly surprised. Sophia smiled and squeezed her hand again.

"Hey," she said softly. "You're not alone."

"I …" said Taylor. She paused. "When I met you again that first time, I thought I was going to hate you." She squeezed Sophia's hand. "But you're just someone who was trying to make sense of the world the way you saw it."

"And royally fucking it up," agreed Sophia. "But you helped me get my head out of my ass."

Taylor grinned. "But you _did_ take it out of your ass. And I actually think you're kinda cool, now."

Sophia's face darkened with a blush. "Taylor … I …"

Taylor looked at her. "What?"

Sophia couldn't find the words. So she stood, leaning on the table, and kissed Taylor on the lips. Not hard, no tongue, but more than a friendly kiss. Much more.

Taylor's eyes went very wide indeed.

Sophia pulled away, looking at her anxiously. "Taylor …?"

Taylor blinked a few times. "You … you feel _that_ way about me?"

Sophia nodded. "I do. Yes. I have almost since I saw you." She met Taylor's eyes, and her gaze dropped. "But you don't …"

Taylor grabbed her hand and held it tight.

"Sophia," she said firmly. "I like you. I think you're cute as hell. I think I might feel something for you. But I'm not ready for that … not right now. Okay?"

Sophia sat down. She held Taylor's hand tightly. "Still friends?" she asked hopefully. "No weirdness?"

Taylor giggled. "We're _both_ weird," she pointed out. "But yeah, we're good." She brightened. "Oh, hey. My best friend has been out of town on summer break. She gets back tomorrow, I think. I just gotta introduce you guys."

Sophia raised an eyebrow. "'Best' friend, huh?" she said with a grin.

Taylor nodded earnestly. "I've known her since … oh, first grade."

Sophia tilted her head judiciously. "Okay, I'll give you that one. What's her name?"

"Emma," said Taylor with a grin. "Emma Barnes."

* * *

End of Introduction


	2. Chapter 2

**Shadow Stalker – Advent of a Hero**

* * *

Part Two

* * *

"I still think you should join the Wards," argued Taylor as they headed down the street. "What happened the other day, they could have had backup to you in minutes." She stopped and hugged her friend. "I really hate to think of what could have happened to you if we hadn't been able to get to you."

Sophia accepted the hug; she rather enjoyed it, in fact, although the crutches did sort of get in the way. "Oh," she said, "I would have gone shadow if they'd gotten too close."

"So how long can you _maintain_ your shadow form, if they chose to hang around and wait you out?" asked Taylor, as they started off again.

Sophia paused. "I'm … not sure. Never had to hold it more than a few seconds."

Taylor nodded. "Uh huh. And thus, my point is made."

"Okay, _fine_, I was in trouble and I know it," acceded Sophia. "That's _why_ I called you. But _I_ still think you need to have a costume, or at least a mask. So the next time you come to help me out, you're not Flannel Pyjamas Girl."

Taylor giggled. "The look on that guy's face when I tied the bar in a knot," she said.

"Hey, I was pretty damn impressed too," pointed out Sophia. "How high can you go, anyway?"

"What, jumping?" asked Taylor.

Sophia shook her head. "In amps."

Taylor paused. "Um … not sure? Never pushed it as hard as it would go. I just take what I need."

Sophia stared. "So … you can do _more_ than catch bullets?"

Taylor shrugged. "Um, I guess?" She rubbed her forehead. "But seriously. If I miscalculate the level of amp I need, I could end up killing some jerk by sheer accident. And if I underestimate, I could end up dying."

Sophia sighed. "Taylor, you have what every military dreams of getting – dial-a-yield damage. With just a little research, you can adjust your amps to whatever enemy you're fighting."

"Well, that's the other thing," said Taylor. "I actually suck at fighting. I nearly got killed, remember? People don't duck my punches because they think I'm gonna hit like a girl. But once I hit the scene as the girl who can throw telephone poles like javelins –"

"Which would be _awesome_ to see," put in Sophia. "Just saying."

"Until the first time I miss and take out a 747," retorted Taylor. "But after that, people would go, whoops, she can actually do damage, and dodge my wild and ineffectual swings."

"So get training," said Sophia.

"Where from?" asked Taylor. "And another thing. I'm no expert at the whole self-defense thing, but it seems to me that someone of my normal height and strength and weight would need an entirely different fighting style to when I'm amped up enough to lift a truck."

Sophia paused. "I see your point, but I don't see where you're going with this."

"Who do I go to," said Taylor patiently, "to get trained in how to use that strength and inertia effectively? There's not many places that train parahumans."

"Except, you know, the Wards," pointed out Sophia.

"Which _you_ refuse to join," Taylor riposted.

"I will if you will," Sophia shot back.

Taylor paused. "Wait, what?"

"If you join the Wards, so will I," said Sophia slowly.

She had to stop and think about that. _Wow, would I?_

_Yes, I would. If it meant Taylor would be there._

"But you hate the idea of giving up your independence, having to follow rules and regulations," Taylor protested. "You told me that. In detail. I still have the printed booklet you gave me."

Sophia burst out laughing. "I didn't give you any printed booklet."

"You may as well have," grinned Taylor. "You were emphatic enough."

Sophia rolled her eyes. Taylor could be so silly. It was one of the reasons she liked her so much.

"Well, if you won't come out and be my backup," Sophia said, "I'd be happy to be in the Wards if you were there too."

Taylor gave her a long look. "So you still …"

Sophia nodded. "Yeah. Not something I can turn off." She shrugged. "Not something I really _want_ to turn off. It's new. Never felt this way before. I just wish …"

Taylor shook her head. "Sorry. I like you … a lot. A whole lot. But I don't feel comfortable about it, just yet. I still need to think about it." She gave Sophia a beseeching look. "Give me more time?"

Sophia smiled, squeezed her hand. "All the time in the world." She looked around. "So where's this Emma person live?"

Taylor pointed. "That house just over there. The big one."

"Huh," said Sophia. "Big, all right. Rich family?"

Taylor grinned. "Her dad's a divorce attorney."

Sophia rolled her eyes again. "Say no more."

* * *

Emma opened the door to Taylor's knock. "Taylor!" she shouted, and grabbed her friend in a bear-hug. Taylor instinctively amped up so that she would not be knocked over, but not so much that she would turn into a stone statue.

"Hey, Ems," she greeted the redhead, dropping the amps again. "Good to see you too. Wow, you're tanned."

"You should see my tan lines," grinned Emma. "I got this really tiny bikini – who's this?"

She had noticed Sophia for the first time as the dark-skinned girl made her slow progress up the steps.

"Oh, sorry," said Taylor. "Emma, this is Sophia. Emma Barnes, Sophia Hess."

"Hey," said Sophia, reaching the top of the steps. She constructed a smile for Emma. But all she could think was, _She's so damn pretty._

And it was true. Emma had a radiant beauty about her.

Deep within, a primal part of Sophia's subconscious scented _rival_, and went on the alert. She gave Emma a hard stare. _She seemed awfully huggy there._

* * *

Emma blinked. Sophia seemed to be a little hostile toward her. _But I've barely even met her._

"Is it okay if we come in and sit down?" asked Taylor. "It was farther than I remembered from the bus stop, and Sophia's leg still isn't mended."

"Uh, sure," said Emma. "Come in, come in."

* * *

They sat on comfortable armchairs in the living room. Sophia stretched her injured leg out and sighed; it had been really starting to twinge. This armchair was very comfortable. She began to wonder if she'd ever be able to get out of it.

"So, I see you've been making new friends while I've been away," observed Emma cheerfully, bearing in a tray of drinks.

"Something like that," agreed Taylor with a grin. She handed Sophia a drink. "I got in a little bit of trouble, and Sophia was there to help out."

Emma nodded approvingly toward Sophia. "Well, thanks for that. I'd hate for something to happen to Taylor while I wasn't around to keep an eye on her." She nodded to the crutches. "What happened to your leg? Did you get hurt helping Taylor?"

Sophia sipped at her drink. It was some sort of fruit concoction; icy cold, and very nice. "Ah, no," she said. "That happened later. That was when I got in trouble, and Taylor helped me out."

Emma giggled. "Wow, this sounds like the plot of a bad cape sitcom. Mysterious injuries, people making obscure references ...". She leaned forward and grinned at her best friend. "Taylor, you haven't gotten powers, put on a costume and started prowling the streets beating people up, have you?"

* * *

The awkward silence that followed Emma's joke stretched a moment too long, before Taylor burst out laughing. "No, Ems," she said with a grin. "I can promise you that I haven't put on a costume and started going out to beat people up."

Emma looked at her and Sophia. There was a vibe there, an understanding between the two of them. She would suspect some sort of intimate thing, but Taylor wasn't showing the signs of that at all, and she didn't know Sophia enough to tell with her.

But there was _something_. After her mother's death, Taylor had been withdrawn, pulled in on herself. But now ... she was more open, happier, more free with her gestures and her laughter. More _confident._

Emma had wondered if her friend would ever come back to her. It appeared that she had.

"Well, I'm glad you're both okay," she said. "Sophia, thanks for helping Taylor out. I really appreciate it."

* * *

Sophia ducked her head and blushed. She hadn't helped Taylor out, not really. And if Taylor hadn't triggered, if her power hadn't manifested, she would have been horribly injured or dead now, with a knife-slash across her stomach. She was fully aware that her inaction had nearly killed Taylor, and that her actions had not saved her.

And yet Taylor was giving her the credit, and Emma was praising her for it.

She liked the praise, a lot. She just didn't like the feeling that she'd cheated to get it.

She recalled the family group in the alley, two weeks ago. The Merchants had never seen her coming. She had taken down two before the third had a chance to react. He had turned and run. She'd considered shooting him, but a niggling feeling that Taylor wouldn't shoot someone in the back had stayed her hand.

But afterward ...

The mother had hugged her, and the boy had looked at her with hero-worship in his eyes. She wasn't used to that. It made her feel different. Strange.

_I've always been focused on hurting the criminals, not helping people in need._

It was a strange thought. She wasn't used to questioning her own preconceptions; to be fair, few people are. But with Taylor's gentler nature as an example, she was starting to wonder if there wasn't something she might be missing.

It was something she'd have to think about.

* * *

"Thanks," she said out loud. "It wasn't really anything." She took a deep breath, tried to change the subject. "So, you've known Taylor since first grade?"

Emma nodded. "Oh yeah. Dad and Mr Hebert always used to say that Taylor's like another sister to me, and I was like another daughter to him." She grinned at Taylor. "Not that we didn't get in trouble. Remember the time, with the cat ...?"

Taylor fell back in the chair and burst out laughing. "Oh god, that was ... oh god, we got in _so_ much trouble for that."

"Well, come on," said Sophia. "Give with the details. I want to hear this."

* * *

So, in between bursts of laughter, they told her the story. And then Emma told them about her holiday, and the oh-so-handsome pool boy called Jaime, and his _amazing_ abdominal muscles.

"And then Dad comes right up behind him, and says ..." giggled Emma.

"If you value your employment, you will walk away from my daughter _right now,"_ broke in a new voice, from right behind Emma's chair.

Emma squeaked and jumped, and looked around, occasioning more laughter from the other two, who of course had seen the speaker coming. Alan Barnes stood there, heavy-set and red-haired, although his flaming thatch was starting to thin and grey slightly.

"Aw Dad, I was going to make it funnier than that," she protested.

He cleared his throat. "I would have made it more subtle, but I wanted him to be certain of my meaning." Stepping forward, he smiled at Taylor. "It's good to see you, Taylor. How's your dad?"

"He's fine, Mr Barnes," said Taylor happily. "It's good to see you again. Oh, and this is Sophia Hess. She'll be attending Winslow with me and Emma this year."

Alan leaned forward and extended his hand. Sophia shook it. "I'm pleased to meet you, Sophia," he said. "Any friend of Taylor's is a friend of mine."

"Thank you, Mr Barnes," she replied. "You have a nice house."

He preened a little, as will any family man when praised for his ability to provide. "Thanks. I suppose business has been good."

She noticed, with inner amusement, that he did not actually tell her what his business was.

"Well," he added, "I hate to leave you like this, but I have to run. Take care, you three. And it was nice meeting you, Sophia."

* * *

And then he was gone, and Emma turned to Sophia. "So you'll be attending Winslow with us this year, huh?"

"That's right," confirmed Sophia. "I could get into Arcadia on the strength of my athletics, but the money would still be tight, and I don't know anyone there. At least at Winslow, I'll have you two to keep me company."

"Athletics, huh?" asked Taylor. "You never told me you did athletics."

Emma leaned forward and eyed her. "Swimming?" she hazarded.

"Nope," grinned Sophia. She turned to Taylor. "Go on, you guess."

"Track and field," said Taylor promptly, and giggled at the look of disgust on Sophia's face.

"How did you guess?" asked the dark-skinned girl.

"I've seen the way you move, before you hurt your leg," Taylor grinned. "And I have never seen anyone quite so irritated at being on crutches as you can get."

* * *

Taylor and Sophia left a little while after that, amid mutual promises to get back together again, really soon. "I'll be over Saturday, okay?" Taylor called as she left, to an answering wave from Emma.

"Saturday?" asked Sophia, as she and Taylor headed back toward the bus stop.

"Oh, it's a thing we have," Taylor told her cheerfully. "We sleep over at each others' places most nights.". She giggled. "Paint each others' toenails, talk about our cape crushes, stuff like that."

Sophia looked very thoughtful. "Do you think Emma would mind if I came along as well?". The last time she had seen Taylor in her flannel pyjamas, Sophia had been in too much pain to really appreciate how adorably cute she was, but if she had a second chance, she intended to fully appreciate the view.

Taylor frowned. "I thought you patrolled most nights."

Sophia waved a crutch. "Until this leg comes good, I won't be patrolling _anywhere."_

Taylor shrugged and grinned. "Ah yeah, duh. Sure, okay. I can't see her saying no, but I'll check to make sure."

Sophia smiled. "Thanks."

* * *

Taylor helped Sophia on to her bus, then stood waving on the sidewalk as it drove off.

Sophia waved back, then leaned back in her seat and closed her eyes. She had a lot to think about.

Ever since she had gotten her powers, she had been fixated on the idea that she had to _earn_ them, by being the biggest, baddest tiger in the jungle. If tigers lived in the jungle. She wasn't sure about that bit. But anyway, it was all about predator and prey. She had shown defiance, she had gotten her powers. She had earned her reprieve from being prey.

_I will never be prey again. I will fight, or I will die._

But with Taylor ... she had fought, and she had nearly still died. Only her newly-gained powers had saved her. And when Sophia expected her to embrace the fight-or-die ethos, Taylor had rejected it, very forcefully and with logic to back up her views. In fact, the scar that she had taken in proving her point would remain with her for the rest of her days.

* * *

Normally, Sophia would have defended her point of view with more dedication; after all, if she wax wrong in Taylor's case, then she had been wrong before. And she really did not want to face that conclusion.

But there was something about Taylor Rose Hebert that derailed Sophia's most carefully planned arguments, even before she was well into them. Taylor had not _wanted_ to fight, not against opponents in superior numbers, armed with better weapons. She had only lashed out in sheer desperation, and had she not manifested powers right at that moment, she would have been killed or worse.

Normally, Sophia would have dismissed the unwillingness to fight under such circumstances as weakness or cowardice. But her newfound insights into herself and her motivations did not allow her such an easy refuge for her ego, not any more.

_She_ was willing to dive into such situations, not because she was braver or stronger or more fit to live, but because her powerset gave her a huge advantage over most opponents in a melee situation. Basically, she cheated. Which led to a very troubling question.

Was it really her right to decide the fitness of others if she only won her fights by cheating?

_Before I met Taylor, I would not have been asking myself these questions._

_Before I met Taylor, I would not have even _**_considered _**_asking myself these questions._

_What does this say about the type of person I am?_

No matter how she worded that question, she didn't like the answer.

* * *

"Barnes household, Emma speaking."

_"Hey, Ems."_

"Oh hey, Taylor. What's up?"

_"Just wanted to ask you about something. You know the sleepover on Saturday?"_

"Yeah," replied Emma. "What about it?"

_"Would it be okay if Sophia came over as well?"_

Emma hesitated. "Uh, Taylor, are you sure that's such a great idea? I don't think she likes me very much."

Taylor chuckled over the phone. _"Oh, she's just a bit prickly, is all. She's really nice once you get to know her."_

"Well," said Emma dubiously, "I guess. But only because you say it'll be okay."

_"Sure,"_Taylor promised her. _"She'll be good."_

"Actually, while I've got you on the line," said Emma, "can I ask you something?"

_"Go ahead,"_ Taylor invited.

Emma hesitated for a moment. This was Taylor, her oldest friend. She didn't want to sound like she was prying, or worst, disapproving.

"Um … you and Sophia … is there something going on between the two of you?" she asked at last.

Taylor paused. _"What do you mean, going on?"_

Emma tried to keep her voice level and calm and not get flustered. "It's just that while you were here, I kept getting this vibe between you, like there was something you knew, a really big secret, that I didn't know." She paused. "Are you and Sophia ... _seeing_ each other?"

_"What, like in a relationship?"_ laughed Taylor, the mirth unforced enough for Emma to believe it was genuine. _"No, we're not."_ She paused. _"Okay, I didn't tell you this, all right?"_

"Okay," said Emma immediately.

_"Sophia has ... a kind of crush on me. A big one. A huge one. And I kind of like her. But I'm still getting my head around this whole idea of being in a relationship. I mean, the closest I've ever been to being in a relationship is being friends with you."_

"Oh," said Emma, flattered that Taylor was confiding this to her, and dazed by the implications. "Wow. So ... it's like, she's asked you to be her girlfriend, and you haven't said yes yet?"

A long pause. _"I haven't said no yet either,"_ Taylor said quietly. _"I just want to make sure it's what I want. Because I don't want to hurt her."_

"Oh wow, oh wow," said Emma, her head spinning just a little. This made her tale of the flirtation with Jaime of the amazing abdominals seem very small potatoes indeed. "So have you two ... _done_ anything yet?"

Taylor chuckled. _"Not really. We've been to eat a few times. And she's eaten at my place once. And she kissed me once. That's when I found out how she felt about me."_

"A bit of a shock, huh?" chuckled Emma in her turn.

_"Just a bit, yeah,"_ agreed Taylor. _"But it explained why she was so anxious to be my friend, and not to upset me or anything."_

Emma paused for a moment. "So ... what was it like, kissing a girl?" she asked archly.

Taylor also paused. _"It was ... nice. I can't compare it to kissing boys, because you know I've never had a boyfriend. But yeah ... after she kissed me, I could have said no right away, and I didn't."_

Emma chuckled. "Well, that certainly explains the thing I felt between you two. And why she was a bit rude to me."

_"Oh?"_ said Taylor. _"Why?"_

Emma laughed. "She thought I might be interested in you too, and didn't want me butting in between you and her."

_"Oh my god,"_ said Taylor. _"Oh my god. She totally must have thought that, the way we grabbed each other."_ She started laughing helplessly. _"I'm gonna have to tell her you're not interested in me."_ A wicked tone crept into her voice. _"If you were, you've had plenty of chances to show it."_

Emma giggled. "You're not wrong, there. No, your virtue is safe from me. I like boys too much. Let me tell you, if Dad had walked around the corner one minute later, Jaime would have gotten a bit more than a feel of my butt."

_"Emma!"_ gasped Taylor in well-feigned shock. _"You wouldn't!"_

Emma giggled. "Try me."

They exchanged a few more pleasantries, then hung up; Emma went to find her mother, and let her know about Sophia coming over for the sleepover.

* * *

Sophia stretched out on her bed, looking wistfully at the wardrobe containing her Shadow Stalker gear. The pants had been washed and mended; it was a pity her own leg could not be so easily fixed.

Her mobile rang, and she glanced at the caller ID. _Hebert household._ Either Taylor or her dad. "You've got Sophia."

_"Hey, Soph," _Taylor's voice said cheerfully.

"Taylor!" Sophia sat up, the smile that crossed her face translating to her voice.

_"Yup,"_ Taylor answered. _"You get home okay?"_

"Sure," said Sophia. "I'm lying down resting my leg right now. I might try walking unaided tomorrow."

_"Don't strain yourself,"_ warned Taylor.

Sophia grinned. "I've been doing track and field since I was ten. I know about straining myself." She paused, and asked the question that was burning a hole in her forebrain. "So ... did she say yes?"

_"She did,"_ confirmed Taylor. _"So long as, you know, you refrain from trying to beat her up over me."_

Sophia paused for a long moment. "So ... she noticed."

_"It's all good,"_ Taylor assured her. _"She doesn't mind. She is, and I quote, too interested in boys, unquote."_

"Oh, boys are _nice,_" Sophia grinned. "But ... they're not you." _I've never met a boy who could grab my attention as thoroughly as you can. Who I can __**respect**__._

_"Okay, blushing now,"_ giggled Taylor over the phone. _"But yeah, it 's all good. Bring your own night wear and toiletries, and favourite pillow if you have one."_

Sophia nodded, although Taylor of course could not see her. "Okay. See you then."

_"See you then."_

They hung up then, and Sophia lay back on her bed, a smile crossing her face from side to side.

_Oh, man, _she thought_. This is gonna be __**epic**__._

* * *

End of Part Two


	3. Chapter 3

**Shadow Stalker: Advent of a Hero**

* * *

Part 3 – the Sleepover

* * *

Sophia's dad dropped her off outside Emma's house, then drove away. He was out of sight by the time she reached the steps. She worked her way up them, leaning heavily on the rail, and knocked on the door.

Emma opened the door almost at once. "Sophia," she greeted the other girl. "Come on in. Here, let me take your bag."

Sophia hung on to the bag. "I'm good," she said stubbornly. She limped into the house, favouring her injured leg but still using it.

Emma looked at her. "You're off your crutches. Wow, doesn't that leg hurt?"

Sophia nodded. "Pain is a thing. Things can be ignored." She looked around. "Taylor not here yet?"

Emma hooked her head toward the back of the house. "Taylor's just showering now. She came in all sweaty." She rolled her eyes. "Apparently she's decided to take up exercise all of a sudden. As if she's _got_ weight to lose."

Sophia limped forward, her mind formulating the image of Taylor, covered in sweat and not much else, and finding it ... compelling. "I'm sure she's got her reasons," she said shortly. She dropped her bag and collapsed into one of the armchairs.

Part of her wanted to go back there and surprise Taylor in the shower. A larger, more sensible, part of her was quite adamant that if she did this, then any chance of Taylor becoming closer to her would go from 'reasonable' to 'zero'.

Instead, she looked up at Emma. "You exercise?" she asked. Emma wasn't out of shape, exactly, but she didn't _look_ that fit.

"Just enough to keep my abs firm," confessed Emma. "I do a bit of modelling. Swimsuit shoots, clothing, stuff like that."

"Huh," said Sophia. "Never met a real live model before." _Well, at least she's doing _**_something _**_with herself._

Taylor entered the room at that point, still towelling her hair vigorously. She was wearing her flannel pyjamas, and Sophia's mind temporarily locked up. The pyjamas actually covered her up _more_ than normal clothes would, but she looked utterly cute and adorable. Which were words that Sophia had never considered to be important when it came to her potential partners, but this had changed, of late.

"Sophia," she said, her face lighting up. "You came."

Sophia smiled back at her, the expression still unfamiliar, but coming more and more readily when she looked at Taylor. "Yeah," she said. "I came."

"I'll go shower now," said Emma. "You guys catch up." She headed off toward the bathroom.

Taylor took a seat next to Sophia. "Wow," she said. "You're off your crutches. How does your leg feel?"

"Hurts like a bitch," Sophia said honestly. "But I can walk on it. Not gonna let some pissant Merchant goon keep _me_ down."

Taylor grinned. "You're so tough, so strong," she said admiringly. "I don't know how you do it."

Sophia rolled her eyes. "Says the girl who can bench press a Mack truck and catch bullets in her bare hands, if she has a mind to," she retorted.

"Yeah, but that's when I'm amped up," said Taylor. "You can't do that. When you get hurt, you get hurt." She pulled up her pyjama top, showing the pink scar across her belly. "When I got this, I fainted."

Sophia caught her breath, less at the sight of the old injury than by Taylor's firm, smooth stomach, punctuated by her navel. _Lift that top just a little more ..._

"But you punched out the bitch who did it to you, first," she pointed out, just for something to say. "And then you grabbed _me_ by the throat."

Taylor grinned apologetically. "I _was_ a little pissed," she admitted.

Sophia gestured, a throwaway motion. "I probably deserved it. I let you get hurt."

Shrugging, Taylor pulled down her pyjama top again. "I lived. Never want to do that again, though."

Emma's sister entered the room then, nodded a greeting to the two girls, and headed through to the kitchen. The conversation necessarily tailed off to banal topics until Emma returned, glowing pink from the shower. She had on a flannel teddy and sleeping shorts, and her red hair was bound up in a towel.

"Shower's free," she announced.

Sophia went to get up, but her leg would not let her at first; Taylor bounced out of her chair and offered her a hand. Sophia spotted the subtle signs that she was amping up, and indeed, she found herself being pulled from the chair like she weighed nothing.

"Wow," said Emma, eyes widening. "Your exercise must be really paying off. You did that so easily."

Taylor shrugged and mumbled something; Sophia came to her rescue. "I nearly had it anyway," she explained. "Taylor just gave me that extra nudge that I needed."

"Right, right," said Emma, nodding. "Um, I'll go fix snacks. Taylor, you want to show Sophia where the bathroom is?"

Taylor scooped up Sophia's bag; this time, the dark-skinned girl did not object. "This way," said Taylor cheerfully.

Sophia followed her obediently, aching to run her hands through the riot of damp brown curls that spilled down Taylor's back. "Your hair looks nice," she said suddenly.

"Thanks," said Taylor with a wide grin. "Dad says it's my best feature.". She opened a door. "Here's the bathroom. There are towels in the cupboard; I'll just put your bag in here – oh!"

Sophia had nudged the door shut with her butt, then moved forward, pinning Taylor up against the wall of the bathroom. She leaned with all her weight against Taylor, pressing her wrists back against the tiles, chest to chest, looking up into Taylor's bemused face.

"Sophia?" asked Taylor quietly.

"I want – I want to kiss you, so badly," said Sophia. "Just sitting ... watching you. I want to ..." _Tear all your clothes off, drag you down to the floor, do things to you that I've only seen online._

And then Taylor was pulling her arms free from Sophia's grip, so easily, so effortlessly, that she must be amped up. "Sophia," she said softly. She placed her hands on either side of Sophia's waist, lifted her up so that she was sitting on the washstand, her face on a level with Taylor's.

She took her glasses off; her face looked sweeter, more vulnerable. "I had no idea you were feeling that strongly about it," she said quietly. "One kiss, okay? One kiss. Can you be satisfied with that, tonight?"

Sophia nodded. _It's better than nothing_, she told herself.

So then Taylor kissed her. It was nothing like the first kiss; that had been almost as much a surprise to Sophia as it was to Taylor. This one ...

Their lips met, and pressed together. Taylor's arm's wrapped around Sophia's body; and Sophia's wrapped around Taylor. Lips parted, and Sophia's tongue intruded through, to be met by Taylor's. Neither was experienced at this sort of kissing, so it was a little awkward, but they learned fast.

When they finally separated, Sophia's head was spinning slightly, and she was breathing hard. Taylor's eyes seemed a little unfocused as well.

"Wow," breathed Taylor. "So _that's_ what it's all about."

Sophia nodded, wordlessly. She held on to Taylor.

"Well," said Taylor, "I'm not comfortable with going any farther than that for a while ... but I think we can do this again, sometime." She favoured Sophia with a peck on the lips. "Okay?"

Sophia smiled. "Okay," she said. _"Definitely_ okay." And then her face sobered, and she hung her head. "And sorry about being a pushy jerk," she said quietly.

Taylor shook her head gently, and smiled. "If I'd known how good a real kiss could feel, I might've done this already," she said. She cupped Sophia's cheek in her hand. "Just ... be a little more careful, next time, okay? I nearly clocked you, when you took me by surprise." She took her glasses from the washstand and put them back on.

Sophia nodded, contritely. "I'll do that." She thrilled to the feel of Taylor's strong hands as she was lifted down from the washstand. "If I was to ask you stay and help me have a shower, with my hurt leg and all ...?" she asked hopefully.

Taylor giggled and ruffled her hair. "I'd think you were trying to push it," she grinned. "Go on and have your shower, you pushy jerk." Still smiling, she exited the bathroom, closing the door behind her.

* * *

Sophia had her shower. There seemed to be about fourteen different controls, most of them to do with extra spray or directional bursts. But she figured it out, and got clean. She also spent more than a little time rubbing herself with the soap, imagining Taylor in the shower with her.

But all good things must come to an end, and so she finished her shower, dried off, and put on her nightwear; a soft t-shirt and sleeping shorts, not unlike Emma's.

* * *

Emma looked up as Taylor entered the kitchen. "You took your time," she observed. "Stop for a little bit of a cuddle, did we?" She grinned as Taylor reddened.

"It wasn't like that," Taylor mumbled, then nodded. "Okay, so it _was_ like that. She wanted to kiss me, so ... I kissed her."

Emma's eyebrows shot up. "Ooh, second kiss," she said. "How was it? Come on, juicy details, tell all."

Taylor leaned back against the door frame in her pyjamas, and sighed. "It was ... nice. Nicer than I expected. A _lot_ nicer than I expected."

"So we're starting to feel the attraction too, are we?" grinned Emma. She was enjoying this immensely.

"No ... yes ... maybe?" hedged Taylor.

Emma chuckled. "Well, _that _certainly clears it up," she commented. Taylor stuck her tongue out at her.

Emma busied herself with making up more of the reconstituted juice, and didn't quite look at her. "If you start a full-on relationship with Sophia," she said, "what does that mean for us? Our friendship?"

"We'll still be friends!" protested Taylor.

"Will we?" asked Emma quietly. "There's already something between you two, something that excludes me, a barrier I can't break through. If I didn't know you were still at the kissing stage, I'd be thinking you'd gone a lot farther than that. Because when I see you two glancing at each other, there's something there, something I can't figure out."

Taylor shook her head. "It's not that, Emma," she said. "That's something else."

Emma tilted her head. "What else is there? Is there another secret you're hiding from me?" she asked. Her tone was hurt rather than accusatory, but Taylor flinched anyway.

"I'm sorry," she said miserably. "I ... I can't tell you, not right now." _Not until I've had a chance to talk to Dad and Sophia about it first._

Emma sighed. "Okay. Just so you know, I'm always ready to listen."

Feeling like an utter heel, Taylor helped her carry the snacks to her bedroom, which was where the sleepover would take place.

"I'll go wait for Sophia to get out of the shower, so she doesn't get lost looking for us," said Taylor. _I have to talk to her._

"Sure," said Emma. "You're gone more than half an hour, I'll be ringing the wedding registry."

"Oh, ha ha," said Taylor, and stalked out of the bedroom.

* * *

When Sophia opened the bathroom door, Taylor was right there. She pushed her way in, closing the door behind her.

"Sophia," she said, "we've got a problem."

"What?" asked Sophia. "What's up?"

Taylor sighed. "Emma and I have just had a talk. About you and me."

Sophia frowned. "I don't see that what we do is any of her business."

Taylor grimaced. "Sophia, she can tell something's going on, over and above what you feel about me. She's scared for our friendship."

Sophia looked concerned. "You didn't tell her we had powers, did you?"

Taylor shook her head. "No, but I think maybe we should, sometime. If only to put her mind at ease. I don't know what she thinks is going on between us, but she knows it's excluding her, and that worries her."

Sophia shook her head violently. "No. Secret identities stay secret for a good reason. You can out yourself to her – she's _your_ friend – but not me."

"But don't you get it?" asked Taylor imploringly. "If I tell her the big secret is that I have powers, she'll make the connection. Just me having powers is something that I would share with her if I've shared with you. She'll figure out that you've got powers too, inside of thirty seconds."

"Then we _don't_ tell her," said Sophia immediately.

"But I've got to tell her _something,_" Taylor insisted.

"Not about me," Sophia said stubbornly.

Taylor took a deep breath. "I'll let you kiss me again," she said desperately.

"And second base," countered Sophia.

"Second base?" asked Taylor, not comprehending.

"I get to touch your breast," Sophia clarified.

"Only on the outside of my top," Taylor stated firmly.

"Sure," agreed Sophia.

Taylor took Sophia in her arms, not bothering with the washstand, and leaned down toward her. "Just so we're clear," she said. "I kiss you, you get to touch my breast, and you're okay with me telling Emma that we've both got powers." She paused. _"And _you behave for the rest of the night. No trying to cop a feel, or anything like that."

Sophia nodded urgently. "Yeah, sure, that's it," she said.

Taylor kissed Sophia again. This time, the dynamic was somewhat different; Taylor was taller, so Sophia found herself in the subordinate position, rather than the equal or even dominant position. And Taylor had learned a lot about kissing in the first encounter, so she wasn't nearly as tentative as the first time around.

She felt Sophia caressing her meagre breasts through her pyjama top, but didn't pay it much mind. The kiss was ... wow. Even better than the last time.

When she finally broke the kiss, her head was spinning slightly. She had a warm feeling in the pit of her stomach that she had no time to stop and analyse, because Sophia's knees had buckled and she'd nearly ended up on the bathroom floor.

Taylor caught her in time, and crouched down with her, holding her up so that she didn't fall. "Are you all right?" she asked.

Sophia looked at her out of unfocused eyes. "Christ, yes," she mumbled. "After that kiss? Tell Emma. Tell her whole goddamn family. I don't care. Wow."

Taylor frowned. "Are you _sure_ you're all right?"

Sophia nodded, her eyes unglazing. "Wow, fuck, yes. I just ... fuck." She stared at Taylor. "Why didn't you _tell_ me you could kiss like that?"

"Like what?" asked Taylor, frowning. "It was a nice kiss, but ..."

Sophia shook her head. "Yeah, no. We don't have time to go into that, now. Just tell me you'll kiss me like that again sometime."

Taylor nodded. "Sure," she said. "It was nice. I liked it."

"Good," said Sophia. "Now, let's go find your friend before she starts thinking we're having wild monkey sex on the floor of the bathroom."

Taylor was still giggling when they reached the bedroom.

* * *

"... and that's triple word score, for ... seventy-two points," noted Taylor, placing the letters.

Emma rolled her eyes, and glanced at Sophia, who herself wasn't looking too thrilled.

"Seriously, Taylor," she said. "Do you have _all_ the good letters?"

Taylor frowned. "No, not really," she said. "I have a Q and no U, so I can't place that ... oh wait, I can. That word's got a U in it."

Emma looked at the scores. Taylor's beat hers and Sophia's combined.

"Yeah, I think I know why we haven't played Scrabble in ages," she commented.

Sophia nodded. "Is there something else we can play?"

"Well, the toenail polish seems to have dried, so let's see what your Rainbow Dazzle looks like, Sophia," said Taylor. She examined the nails closely. "Ooh, nice. I like the flakes of glitter."

Emma nodded. "That's very cool. Better than Strawberry Crush." She eyed her own toenails dubiously.

Taylor looked at hers. "Not sure if Scarlet Dreams is my colour."

Emma shook her head. "I don't think it is, somehow."

Taylor sighed. "Okay, let's try something else. Ooh, Peach Surprise."

* * *

"Okay, if you were a cape," said Emma to Taylor, "what powers would you pick?"

Taylor frowned. "What, any powers?"

Emma nodded. "Anything. You hit the jackpot."

"Huh," said Taylor. "I think ... the ability to make my hair grow out like thirty feet long, and grab people. And it works by super-static electricity, so I can electrocute people too."

"Ah," said Emma. "But because it's static electricity, water will kill your power."

Sophia grinned. "So if your hair got wet, it would totally be out of your control."

Taylor nodded. "That's fair." She looked at Sophia. "Okay, Soph, what powers would you like to have, if you were a cape?"

Sophia thought about this. "The power to control bugs," she said.

"Really?" asked Taylor.

"Bugs?" asked Emma.

"Sure," said Sophia, warming to her subject. "There's bugs everywhere, and they're really badass, some of them. And it's not just one bug, it's like every bug inside, oh, a quarter of a mile, all at the same time. And I'd be able to do that multi-function thing ..." She snapped her fingers.

"Multitasking," supplied Taylor.

"Thank you, Mistress of Scrabble," retorted Sophia. "Yeah, multitasking. The more bugs I got, the more I can control, and I can make every single bug do something different. And I'd get the spiders to spin their webs and weave me a costume that's, like, bulletproof ..."

"What, really?" asked Emma. "Spiderweb is bulletproof?"

"No, she's right," said Taylor. "They say that spider silk is stronger than Kevlar, so a costume woven out of spider silk would be as good as a Kevlar vest, maybe better."

"Okay," said Emma. "So Taylor is hair-growing girl, and Sophia is creepy spider lady. I think I'd want ... the ability to control air."

Sophia immediately made a realistic farting sound. All three girls collapsed in laughter. Because at that age, fart jokes are always funny.

"No, really," said Emma, wiping her eyes. "Control air. Send a tornado blast at someone, use air to lift me up so I can fly, maybe even pull air from around someone so they can't breathe."

"What, like a total vacuum?" asked Taylor.

Emma snorted. "Okay, now _that's_ far-fetched," she declared.

"Oh, like bug control isn't?" asked Taylor.

"Hey," said Sophia. "Leave my bug control alone."

* * *

"Truth or dare," challenged Emma, looking at Sophia.

Sophia looked back at her. "Dare," she said boldly.

Emma considered her. "Okay ..." she said. "Taylor, ideas?"

Taylor shrugged. "Not me," she said.

Emma grinned wickedly. "Take off your top for five seconds."

"Emma!" protested Taylor.

"It's fine," said Sophia. "It's not like we don't know what breasts look like." She peeled off her singlet top and sat there, displaying her small, firm breasts. Neither girl looked away. They _were_ rather nice breasts.

At last, Taylor cleared her throat. "Uh, five seconds is up. You can put it back on."

Sophia put her top back on, then raised an eyebrow. "That makes it my turn, right?"

Emma and Taylor nodded.

"Remember," cautioned Emma, "you can't use a dare someone else has used."

Sophia grinned. "A little worried there? You've got a bit more to show than I do."

Emma reddened; Taylor giggled.

Sophia flipped a coin. "Heads ... Taylor. Truth or dare."

Taylor looked at her unflinchingly. "Truth," she said.

Sophia took a long time to think about her question. Finally, she said, "What would you most like to change about yourself?"

Taylor was mildly surprised. She was expecting something along the lines of _Do you love me?_ or _Did you like my breasts?_

"Oh, uh," she said. "Huh." She paused. "I wish I wasn't as skinny as I am. Just a little bit of shape, is all I ask for." She cupped her hands in front of her, to ensure that no-one missed her point.

Emma giggled; Sophia grinned.

"You'll get there," Emma promised, with the assurance of someone who has already gotten there.

"So," said Taylor. "My turn." She took the coin off of Sophia and flipped it. "Tails ... Sophia." She grinned at the dark-skinned girl. "Truth or dare?"

Sophia grinned back. "Dare," she said challengingly.

Taylor considered this. Sophia had picked Dare every time. She obviously considered physical challenges more worthwhile than answering embarrassing questions.

"Emma?" she asked. "Ideas?"

"Make her lie across your lap with her pants down while you spank her," suggested Emma.

Taylor raised an eyebrow at her. "Seriously? I think you got up to more on that holiday than you're letting on."

Emma tilted her head in vague agreement. "Mayyybe."

"Well, no, I'm not spanking Sophia, especially not with her pants down," said Taylor firmly. "There's dares and then there's ... too much."

"I don't mind," said Sophia.

Taylor grimaced. _I'm sure you don't._ "No," she said. "Your dare will be ... to tell Emma what we talked about in the bathroom."

Sophia's eyes opened wide, and she stared at Taylor.

"What, here?" she blurted. "Now?"

Taylor raised an eyebrow. "As I recall, you made a promise."

Sophia bit her lip, then sighed. She turned to Emma, who was staring at her curiously.

"I ..." she began. "I ... Taylor and I ..." She stopped again. "Shit."

Taylor made little 'go-ahead' motions with her hands. "Or would you rather Truth?" she asked gently.

"Fuck that," growled Sophia. "I know what fucking question you'd ask."

Taylor didn't bother denying it. "So ... do you forfeit the dare?"

Sophia shook her head vigorously. "No." She stood up, paced back and forth, then sat down again. Then she looked at Emma and said, "You know when you asked if Taylor was going out and beating people up?"

"Yes ..." Emma said, fascinated by the by-play.

"Well, it wasn't Taylor. It was me. I go out and beat people up." She took a deep breath. "I've got powers. I'm a cape. And so is Taylor."

Emma stared at the both of them. "Well, fuck me."

* * *

"I always thought Shadow Stalker was taller," said Emma.

Sophia shrugged. "I wear lifts. Every little bit counts, when you're my height."

Emma looked at Taylor. "And you're some sort of Brute. How does that work?"

Taylor shrugged vaguely. "Give me any sort of warning, and I'm as strong and tough as I need to be."

_"And_ she totally no-sells my power," declared Sophia. "Seriously. The first time she grabbed me while I was in shadow form, if I could have wet myself, I would have." She stuck out her tongue at Taylor. "I still say it's totally not fair."

Taylor grinned at her. "Says the girl with a body I'd die for."

Emma was looking at Taylor. "So when you get stronger, is it like that old comic character the Hulk? All green and muscly and stuff?"

Taylor shook her head. "Not really." She exerted her power. There was a buzzing in her ears, a sort of pressure in her skull, and strange shadows on the corners of her vision. When she spoke, her voice sounded oddly in her ears, very slow and ponderous. "I'm ... using ... it ... now. I ... could ... probably ... bash ... through ... the ... wall ... now."

"You sound kind of weird," said Emma. "Like the voice isn't really you anymore."

Taylor relaxed the power, let the amps bleed off. Vision and hearing returned to normal, and her heart rate picked up again. "I'm not sure why that is," she said. "I mean, it's not like my voice is any stronger."

Emma grinned. "Well, who cares. Now I know what the big secret is." She smiled at Sophia and Taylor. "Thanks for letting me in on it. I promise I won't tell anyone."

Taylor nodded. "I know. That's why I even considered telling you in the first place."

"Does your dad know?" asked Emma next.

Taylor nodded. "He was there."

That led to a retelling of the story, with both Taylor and Sophia eliding over certain aspects, but leaving in the punching-across-the-alley bits. After that, they told her the story of how Flannel Pyjamas Girl saved Shadow Stalker from the Merchants.

" ... and this guy points his gun at Taylor, right," said Sophia. "And she just puts up her hand, like all casual, and she's gone all real slow, and the guy shoots, and – I shit you not, Emma, if I'm lying I'll take off my clothes and streak through the whole house – she _caught_ the fucking _bullet_."

Emma stared at Taylor. "You caught a _bullet._ In your _hand."_

Taylor nodded and shrugged and mumbled something about, "Just a fluke."

"What happened then?" asked Emma.

"Well," said Sophia, "after she squashed that bullet between her finger and thumb, there were about a dozen puddles of piss on the ground, and no fucking Merchants within two blocks."

Emma started laughing. "Oh god," she said. "I wish I could have seen it."

"I _did_ see it," Sophia grinned. "And I _still_ don't believe it."

Emma got up and turned the lights out. Carefully, making sure not to step on anyone, she made her way back to the mattress on the floor she was sleeping on tonight.

"Okay," she said into the darkness. "If anyone does any cuddling and kissing tonight and wakes me up, be ready to have candid photos on the internet tomorrow."

"Okay," replied Taylor, from one side of her.

"Okay," echoed Sophia, from the other side of her.

"Good," she said.

* * *

Approximately ten seconds later, Taylor felt her blanket lifting, and Sophia crawled into bed with her. She tensed, but Sophia did not seem to want to do more than hold her. She relaxed into the embrace, which put her face next to Sophia's.

After that, it only seemed natural to kiss her a few times.

Kissing Sophia was actually very nice.

They fell asleep in each others' arms.

* * *

End of Part Three


	4. Chapter 4

**Shadow Stalker – Advent of a Hero**

* * *

Part 4 – Out and About

* * *

_[Author's Note: Racial slurs appear in this segment. You have been warned.]_

* * *

"I can't believe I let you talk me into this," grumbled Taylor as she ran across the rooftop, then launched herself into the air.

She wore a basic black sweater and cargo pants under a long coat, which served to bulk out her figure a little. Heavy work boots, gloves, and goggles, the latter spray-painted bronze by her father, completed the ensemble. The lenses of the goggles had been replaced with those from a spare pair of glasses, so that she could at least see clearly.

At her hip, she carried the heaviest wrench from her father's toolkit. He had insisted that she take it along; she didn't need it to hit hard, but it made him feel better, so she took it. And to be honest, it made her feel better too.

Shadow Stalker grinned behind her mask as she paced Taylor, moving in and out of shadow form as she needed to. "You're the one who was worried about my leg," she pointed out.

"Yeah, but I was saying you should rest it a few more days," said Taylor. "Not come out rooftop running as soon as you could walk without limping."

Shadow Stalker shook her head. "Every night I'm not out here is a night some criminal scumbag is breaking the law and I'm not stopping him," she said.

"But I'm not a hero," protested Taylor. "I don't want to come out and beat people up, at least not until I'm sure I can do it without killing them."

"So think of it as a ride-along, like cops do with journalists," pointed out Sophia. "You'll see why I do it, and maybe change your mind."

"So if we're stopped by the Protectorate or whoever, what do I call myself? Goggles girl?"

* * *

Sophia came to a stop on the next rooftop. Taylor stopped too; Sophia took a look at her. She looked so sexy in that outfit. But then, Sophia thought Taylor looked sexy in anything.

"Well, like you said awhile ago, you could call yourself Breaker, or Amp," she suggested.

"Isn't Breaker a power _type?"_ asked Taylor.

"Which is basically what you are," Shadow Stalker told her. "You're a Breaker who uses your powers to make yourself into a Brute, and minor Mover abilities."

Taylor shrugged. "Okay, I guess. But I'm not out here to kick heads. I'm out here to make sure your leg's not gonna give out on you."

"And I appreciate it, I really do," said Sophia. She looked closely at Taylor. "I know you've been exercising, but you're hardly even breathing hard."

Taylor shrugged. "Amping up makes it a bit easier. Also makes it seem like I'm doing it slower. Like I don't need to put as much effort into it?" She shook her head. "I'm really not sure how that works."

"Yeah, but –" began Shadow Stalker, but then she tilted her head. "Hear that?" It sounded like distant cry of pain, or fear.

"Yeah," said Taylor, but Shadow Stalker was already on the move. Taylor took a run-up, amping for the strength, then jumped. She sailed through the air, feeling as though she were a leaf drifting on the wind. Below, Sophia looked up as she passed overhead, coat flaring dramatically.

_She's so strong,_ she thought. _So capable. We could do so much to clean up this city, together.__I just need to jolt her out of that pacifist mindset._

* * *

Landing was a tricky business; Taylor didn't want so much amp that she would punch straight through the roof, but nor did she want so little that she was unable to absorb the impact. But she was learning. She only left an inch-deep footprint in the roof, this time.

Shadow Stalker caught up, flashed her a grin through the hockey mask, and kept going. Taylor leaped again.

* * *

The newly-established Palanquin nightclub was promising to become one of the city's premier night spots. Unfortunately, parking in the area was at a premium; anyone getting there late had to walk quite a ways to get to the club itself. And the local lowlives were starting to clue into this.

There were four of them, two guys and two girls. One of the guys was bleeding from a cut to the hand; they were backed up into a corner formed between the wall and a dumpster.

Sophia couldn't make out the gang colours from on top of the roof, but she didn't need to. There were eight of those, and armed with knives, chains and lengths of pipe. Just right for dealing with four defenseless people.

"Well?" said Taylor. "What are you going to do?"

Sophia realised that she'd drifted into her previous mindset; she'd been subconsciously been waiting to see if any of the victims showed signs of fight. _But Taylor doesn't approve of that ..._

"This," she said, and launched herself off the edge of the roof, going shadow a moment later.

* * *

Taylor watched, her heart in her mouth.

_I should be down there, helping her,_ she told herself.

_But she knows how to do this,_ she countered. _I don't. If I go down there, I could get in her way. She could get hurt._

She steeled herself. _If anything goes wrong, I'm going down there. I don't care.__If something happened to Sophia because of me, I'd never forgive myself._

* * *

Sophia recognised the gang colours as she landed and flowed into the attack. _Empire Eighty-Eight. Christ. Just what I need – these Neo-Nazi fucks moving into this area._

One of the E88 goons looked around, just in time to be kicked in the face, as Shadow Stalker performed a flawless backward somersault. She went ghost halfway through, allowing a knife to pass through her misty body.

Landing in a crouch, she smashed out a side-kick as she flickered into solidity for a moment. It connected, driving the man's knee sideways. He yelled in pain, but did not drop. _Crap_.

_I'm out of training, not at my best._ She realised this, realised that she wasn't hitting as hard as she was used to doing. A boot smashed into her ribs, an instant before she went ghost, knocking her off her feet.

Rolling backward, she solidified as she came to her feet, her crossbow coming out. She loosed a shot which nailed one guy through the forearm. Blood welled around the entry and exit wounds as he stumbled backward, the arrow sticking out both sides at once.

"Right," she said, levelling her other crossbow. "Now I that got your attention ..."

One of the other thugs yelled and threw his pipe. It flipped end over end toward her; she went shadow to let it go through her, and the other six rushed her. Reflexively, she loosed a shot; it left the crossbow in ghost form, passed through the men, and solidified just in time to smack into the opposite wall of the alley.

And then, as she tried to extricate her ghost-form from the tangle of legs and boots and slashing knives, she heard the most beautiful sound in the world.

**_BOOM_**.

The sound of a skinny teenage girl weighing less than a hundred pounds hitting the concrete with the impact of a cannonball.

Every E88 goon, save the one cradling his forearm, turned to look.

* * *

Taylor looked back at them, standing foursquare in her long-coat and bronzed goggles, heavy wrench in hand, cracks spreading in all directions from where her boots were sunk half an inch into the concrete.

"Now," she said, her very voice seeming to vibrate, to grate upon the eardrums, "we can do this the easy way or the hard way." It was the voice of a teenage girl. Mostly. Sophia recognised this as a sign that Taylor was well amped up.

* * *

Taylor hoped that the bad guys, whoever they were, would pick the easy way. She didn't really want to hurt them.

But, of course, there's always someone who doesn't get the hint.

Turning from the unrewarding pastime of kicking vainly at the ghost girl, one of the E88 goons stepped toward Taylor, swinging his chain overhead.

She didn't want it hitting her goggles, so she raised her arm; the movement felt as though it took an age, but it got there in time. The chain wrapped around her arm and he yanked hard, but it was as if she were set in stone. She didn't weigh any more than normal, but her sheer inertia was far more than he could easily budge; thus, when she set her feet and pulled on the chain, he came to her instead.

He came fast, chain-wrapped fist swinging at her face. He hit her in the jaw, just beside her mouth. There was a sickening crack, and he clutched at his hand, crushed by the chain links biting into his knuckles, crushed by the force of his punch against the unyielding barrier that appeared to be a teenage girl.

She stepped forward, shoving him lightly aside. He landed heavily, skidded several yards. Her foot crushed concrete as it came down, leaving treadmarks from her boots. She took hold of another goon, tossed him on top of the first one. They were all staring at her, now.

The ringing in her ears was bad; she could hardly hear anything. Her heart was labouring in her chest. Flickers at the edge of her vision indicated ... what? She had rarely held high amp for this long. She could go higher, but she really didn't want to.

She pointed down the alley with one hand. "Go." With her other hand, she raised the wrench. The threat was implicit. _So far I haven't used force. This can change._

They bolted; the injured men scrambled up and followed.

* * *

Shadow Stalker regained her feet, went solid. She stared at Taylor as the taller girl stumbled, leaned against the wall.

"You okay?" she asked. "Not hurt?"

Taylor shook her head. "No," she said, and her voice was almost normal now. "That just ... took a bit out of me." She stood straighter, took a deep breath. "I'm getting better at it, though."

The four partygoers moved forward, staring at Shadow Stalker and Taylor.

"Th-thanks," said the man with the cut hand. He was holding a handkerchief to the wound; it was stained red, but the bleeding did not seem to be too bad. "Do – do you want us to wait around for the police or something?"

Taylor looked at his hand. "Do you need assistance there, sir?"

He looked down at his hand. "I suppose, yes," he said. "It really hurts."

Taylor reached under her coat, sliding the wrench into the loop on her belt. She pulled out a small first aid kit, and walked over to him. "Okay," she said, "let me see that."

* * *

Shadow Stalker watched as she cleaned the cut, put a dab of disinfectant on it, then carefully bandaged it. Her hands moved swiftly and surely; she'd said something about taking a first aid course, but this was the first time Sophia had had the chance to watch her without being in pain herself.

She had taken off her heavy gloves to apply the first aid, and her long, slender fingers had a certain grace about them. Sophia felt that she could watch Taylor do this all day. _She should be a doctor,_ she thought. _Or a concert pianist._

And then the moment was over, the bandage secured, and Taylor was pulling her gloves back on. She glanced over at Sophia, who blushed dark behind her mask, glad that no-one could see her face in the shadow.

* * *

They walked with the four people back to their car; they had decided to take their friend directly to the hospital rather than wait for an ambulance. This, of course, freed up Taylor and Shadow Stalker for more rooftop running.

"What are your names?" asked one of the women, looking at Taylor. "Are you with the Wards?"

Taylor shook her head. "This is Shadow Stalker; she's an independent. I'm ... still deciding. You can call me Breaker."

* * *

As the car drove away, Taylor turned to Sophia. "Your ribs?" she asked pointedly. "I could see you trying to hide it, but I know how you move."

"They're fine, just bruised," Sophia replied. "I rolled with most of it."

Taylor nodded in acknowledgement. "That could have gone a lot worse," she observed. They started back toward where the altercation had happened, strolling along the street.

Shadow Stalker nodded. "I had it under control, but thanks for stepping in," she said.

Taylor smiled crookedly. "So I saw," she said. "I could see you were getting bored, so I thought I'd just take over for a bit."

Shadow Stalker chuckled, a little self-consciously. "'Bored' wasn't exactly the word I would have used," she said, then winced and held her ribs.

"Bruised, huh?" asked Taylor, raising an eyebrow.

"Bruised," repeated Sophia. "Just bruised. But you don't need to break a bone for it to hurt like a son of a bitch."

Taylor frowned. "You took a big risk. Were you showing off for me or something?"

"Maybe," allowed Sophia. "And I was trying not to use my crossbows. Like you say, they're a bit lethal." She sighed. "And I'm just a touch off my form."

Taylor tilted her head slightly. "So we'll get you back on form before you go out again."

"You know, it would be a lot easier," Sophia pointed out slyly, "if you'd come out with me regularly. You could make sure I don't get hurt, and you could do a lot of good."

Taylor sighed. "You know, most people would just ask me on a date and be done with it."

Sophia looked at her, startled. "_Would_ you come on a date with me?"

Taylor grinned at her. "Sure, I guess. Just don't get, you know, too grabby, okay?"

"I ... sure," said Sophia. Her mind was in chaos. For some reason, she had never thought of the simple, mundane idea of asking Taylor out on a date. _I've been fixated on the vigilante thing for way too long. It's coloured my thinking._

"And in the meantime," said Taylor, breaking into her thoughts, "we can spar, if you want. You can show me a few moves, and I'll amp up a bit and be your practise dummy."

"Just make sure you're not amped up when you hit me, okay?" retorted Sophia. "I don't feel like being punched across the room."

"Well, it'll teach you to dodge better," Taylor pointed out. "I think you're too reliant on your powers, there."

"Says the girl who can ignore them at will," Sophia responded. "That's not gonna happen every day."

"It only needs to happen _once,"_ replied Taylor meaningfully.

Sophia was just trying to formulate a reply when they turned the corner and came face to face with seven people.

Six of these were the uninjured gang members they had run into just earlier.

The seventh was tall, with long greasy hair. He wore no costume, just a sleeveless shirt and jeans. On his right bicep was a tattoo with the characters "E88". Over his face was a metal mask, shaped like a snarling wolf.

"Oh, shit," said Shadow Stalker quietly.

* * *

The tall man in the wolf mask looked at them, apparently incredulously, then turned to his minions. "You have to be shitting me," he said. "You fucking ran away from these two bitches? The shadow nigger herself, and some skinny bitch in goggles?"

"But she's really strong," protested one of the men. "Joe broke his hand when he punched her."

"So I won't _punch_ her," retorted the tall man.

* * *

"What do we do?" asked Taylor, not moving her lips. The Empire Eighty-Eight people were less than twenty feet away, discussing them as though they weren't there.

"When I say the word," muttered Shadow Stalker. "Fucking _run._ We don't fuck with Hookwolf."

_Hookwolf_. Taylor had heard the name. She had not heard good things about him.

"Run, gotcha," she murmured back.

* * *

"Hey, Shadow Bitch," Hookwolf said, looking directly at Sophia. "What the fuck are you doing in Empire territory?"

"Just doing my job, Hookwolf," retorted Shadow Stalker defiantly. "Keeping the scum off the streets."

He chuckled, seeming to find that amusing. "And who's that with you? Haven't seen her around before."

Taylor lifted her chin. "I'm Breaker," she said, trying not to let her voice shake.

"Breaker?" retorted Hookwolf. "What the fuck sort of name is that? Are you _a_ Breaker, or you just break things?"

Taylor started amping up, feeling the sensation of compression, of inertia come over her. "A bit of column A, a bit of column B," she replied evenly.

Sophia heard the edge to her voice, and knew she was amped. _Good; we're gonna need it._

"Hey, if you're all that fucking good," said Hookwolf, "you can ditch the nigger and come work for the Empire. Our money's good."

"Thanks," said Taylor, "but I think I prefer the company I'm keeping right now."

"Your fucking funeral," growled Hookwolf. Metal plates started sliding out of his skin, covering his body. "Any last words?"

Taylor felt Sophia's hand tap hers, just as she heard the other girl whisper, _"Run!"_

They ran.

* * *

_[Author's Note: Yup, this is a cliffhanger. I have no idea how long the fight scene is going to draw out.]_

* * *

End of Part Four


	5. Chapter 5

**Shadow Stalker – Advent of a Hero**

* * *

Part 5: Hookwolf and Beyond

* * *

They ran.

The E88 people gave chase, of course; that was to be expected.

But Shadow Stalker – Sophia Hess – had done track and field and, injured leg or no injured leg, she was a fast runner. She pulled ahead of Taylor, who was only a mediocre runner at the best of times, and had her flapping coat and heavy boots to contend with.

However, when Taylor pushed the amps a little harder, and lengthened her stride, she found herself catching up. She wasn't quite leaving footprints in the asphalt, but cracks were being left behind with every footfall.

And from behind, she heard a metallic snarl, and the sound of claws _skreee_ing on that same asphalt, and she accelerated just a little more.

Sophia was almost at the wall of the building she was aiming at; turning to ghost form – which, at Taylor's current level of amp, just made her seem a little fuzzy around the edges – she leaped upward, interfacing her hands and feet with the solid matter of the wall, ascending in great vertical bounds.

Taylor pushed on the amps and _jumped_.

The blunt-ended club that extended far out from Hookwolf's arm took her squarely in the middle of the back.

Taylor felt it as a dull thump, but there was no pain, no injury. Hookwolf was driven back a yard by the obduracy of what he had hit, but he shifted her course just a little. Just far enough that one of her flailing boots hit Shadow Stalker a glancing blow across the side of the head, just before Taylor hit the wall and went _through_ it.

* * *

Dazed and stunned, Sophia felt herself return to normal form, just as bits of brickwork began to rain on her from the hole that Taylor had made. She scrabbled to grab the edge of the hole, then slipped, fell, caught herself, fell, and landed with bruising force.

The wind knocked out of her, she lay, looking dazedly up at the Empire Eighty-Eight gangsters that surrounded her. Hookwolf completed the semi-circle, his human form encased in metal, with wicked-looking spikes here and there, the metal mask on his face now seeming entirely a part of him.

She fought for breath, tried to trigger her power, go insubstantial. Her head was spinning too much. Hookwolf said something, his metallic mask moving slightly in the streetlight, but she could not hear for the roaring in her ears. He drew back his arm, now with a wicked blade protruding from it ...

* * *

Taylor sprawled, half through a wall. She pushed herself free, splintering wood in the process, Her coat caught; she tore it free, and moved back toward the hole she had smashed in the brick wall with her passage.

As she came up to it, she heard Hookwolf snarl, "Any last words, Shadow Bitch?"

As he drew back the blade, Taylor leaped.

She fell straight down, pushing the amps up as hard as she could. Her skull felt too small for her brain, pressing in on her. Her heart faltered, slowed, beating as though against a tremendous load. _Something_ flickered in the corner of her vision.

And time seemed to slow to a crawl.

They seemed to float up toward her as her coat billowed outward; the blade was beginning its downward movement, a movement that was intended for the vitals of Shadow Stalker.

Of Sophia Hess.

Of the girl she was starting to have feelings for.

_Oh _**_hell _**_no._

* * *

_**THOOOM.**_

Taylor's feet slammed into the concrete, one on either side of Sophia's supine body. The blade came down ... and Taylor caught it. One hand gripping the razor-sharp edge, the other taking hold farther back. Then she just ... held it. There was a minor sting as the edge sawed across her palm, drawing a light line of blood, but nothing more than that.

As Hookwolf tried to wrench it free, she glanced down at Sophia. "You okay?" she asked, in a voice that grated on the eardrums.

"Yup," said Shadow Stalker. Taking a breath, she went to ghost form, reforming next to Taylor.

Hookwolf wrenched harder, then extruded more blades and punched them at Taylor's body, to no apparent effect, except to perforate her sweater here and there.

"Change of plans," said Taylor, labouring with each word. "You got the little guys?"

Sophia grinned behind her mask. "I figure," she said. "Why?"

"Because me and Hookie here," said Taylor, "have a play date."

So saying, she wrenched on the blade, pulling it back past her so that the tip jammed into the wall, lodged a foot deep into the brickwork. Then she stepped forward and punched him.

* * *

Hookwolf had been hit hard before, and he would be hit hard again. But never had he been hit so hard by a something that looked so much like a skinny teenager. The blade wrenched free of his arm as his metal body took the massive impact; he flew backward across the narrow street and hit the wall on the other side. As with the girl, the wall gave way before his body did; he ended up lying in a pile of rubble.

He lay there for a moment, taking stock of his injuries. The blow had gone straight through some of his armour plating, severely dented some more. He supposed that he was lucky she didn't have more leverage, more speed, or just longer arms, or she might have put her fist right though _him_.

_Christ, what is this bitch? Some sort of high-end Brute?_

But Empire Eighty-Eight did not give up so easily; _he_ did not give up so easily. He was one of Allfather's lieutenants, below Kaiser, and he would show these bitches a thing or two about how Eighty-Eight did business.

Pulling himself to his feet, he lunged toward the hole in the wall.

And met a dumpster, coming the other way.

This put him through two more internal walls before he stopped. Snarling, he threw the dumpster off of himself, and headed for the impromptu exit once more.

* * *

The Empire Eighty-Eight boys were demoralised enough by seeing Hookwolf punched through a wall that Shadow Stalker had it much easier this time. She was advancing on the last one by the time that Taylor picked up the dumpster. In the time it took Taylor to heft it a few times as if testing the weight, and then throw it, she had him down and subdued.

Taylor let the majority of the amps slide off her as she turned to Shadow Stalker. "You good to go?" she said. "Because I don't know how high I need to go with this guy. I hit him as hard as I thought I should, and he came right back at me."

"So hit him harder, and keep hitting him till he falls over," said Sophia pragmatically.

"Yeah, but I -" began Taylor, but was interrupted by a spiked chain that whipped out of the darkness of tho hole in the building opposite. Sophia went ghost an instant before it would have hit her, but it wrapped securely around Taylor's arms and body.

She hadn't dropped all the amps, so she was not fatally impaled on the spot, but the barbs still dug painfully into her flesh. Before she could do more than utter a startled yelp, the chain tightened and yanked her off her feet. And then, as Sophia watched in horror, she was dragged bodily into the yawning darkness.

"Nooooooo!" screamed Sophia. Without the slightest hesitation, she flung herself into the hole after Taylor and Hookwolf.

* * *

Taylor tried to pile on the amps, but she was tired; she had already pushed herself hard twice tonight. And normally it took her an instant of concentration, a mental effort, to increase her power. She was being denied that instant, as Hookwolf flailed her around the building's interior, smashing through walls and pillars as if they were cardboard.

The impacts were bruising, but not damaging, she realised; upon being grabbed and dragged, she must have added some amps by sheer instinct. But to build on those was proving an effort.

She was building the amps, slowly, slowly. He was finding it harder and harder to throw her around. But he was also building in strength, becoming larger, more powerful. And she couldn't find the leverage to break free of that damned chain. A loop of the it was wrapped around her throat, squeezing like a living thing, making her efforts no easier.

And then light splashed over them both, illuminating the boiling clouds of brick dust, and a ghostly crossbow bolt flew straight and true. Hookwolf bellowed in rage and pain as the missile materialised within his metallic carapace, striking the vulnerable flesh deep inside.

And just for a fatal instant, he relaxed his grip on Taylor, ceased beating her upon the walls and floor of the building. The chain was no longer throttling her.

She drew a deep breath, and amped _hard._

* * *

Hookwolf felt the links of his prehensile spiked tear chain part like so much papier mache. And then his tormentor was hauling on the end that was still connected to him, reeling him in like a gigantic fish. The needle-sharp spikes on the chain, which had before raised blood from her flesh, now crumpled and crushed flat within her grip.

He set his feet, shot grapples into the floor, the ceiling, what walls remained, tried to stand his ground.

She heaved; the grapples bent, groaned, snapped. His feet dragged through the rubble.

Abruptly, he abandoned the attempt to stay away from her. It didn't matter who or what _she_ was; _he_ was Hookwolf, and he had proven she could bleed. And he would do so again.

Releasing the chain, he bulked out as plates covered with metallic spines burst from every joint in his already-formidable integument. Crouching, digging massive lupine foreclaws into the rubble, flexing metallic retrograde legs sporting even more impressive talons than on the front, a scorpion's stinger tail swaying overhead, he eyed her as she discarded the chain. "Come on then!" he bellowed through wolfen jaws, and sprang to the attack.

* * *

Shadow Stalker tried to aim and loose another bolt, but there was far too much dust and flying rubble to pick her target well. She concentrated on staying out of the way and keeping her flashlight on the struggle, so that Taylor could see what she was doing.

Taylor felt Hookwolf's claw-swipe shred the sleeve of her coat, bur barely score a mark in the skin of her arm. _I liked that coat_, she thought, but found the words too hard to articulate. Her return strike, feeling as slow and clumsy as swinging a mattress in zero gravity, hit home nonetheless, tearing the arm from his body, sending it clattering across the rubble.

He roared in rage, beginning to form another one; she grabbed his other one, spun him around, smashed him into one of the few remaining support pillars.

And the building started to collapse.

* * *

Shadow Stalker, turning ghost when she had to, dodged the falling rubble, leaping from perch to perch as the old building came down around them. Hookwolf and Taylor both ignored it; one due to ungovernable rage, the other due to simply not caring.

The massive chunks of brickwork that Sophia nimbly dodged, and which pummelled Hookwolf's metallic body, merely brushed against Taylor like so many ungainly balloons drifting slowly to the ground. Some burst asunder as she gently nudged them aside.

The last of the rubble settled; bursting out of it came Taylor and Hookwolf. She was inflicting by far the most damage upon him, but he was too stubborn to give up. Pieces of metal littered the rubble for yards around, added to every time she landed a blow upon him.

For her part, her coat was tattered, one lens of her goggles smashed, and she was terribly weary. But she could not stop fighting, not until she had beaten him down or driven him off.

* * *

_"Cape fight in progress, three blocks from Palanquin nightclub on Lord St. Closest unit, please respond."_

Miss Militia keyed her mic as she banked the transport. "Five niner three, responding."

_"Five niner three, I have you as a training and familiarisation flight. People on board?"_

"Miss Militia, with Gallant as co. Trainee is Vista." She paused, reading gauges. "Thirty seconds from location."

_"Miss Militia, Vista is too young to be brought into a combat situation. Director's orders."_

Miss Militia sighed. "Roger, base. We'll stand off."

She brought the transport to a hover. "Gallant, hold it there. Can you do that?"

Gallant nodded uncertainly, taking the controls. The transport wobbled, but then steadied. Miss Militia nodded approvingly, then ducked back into the passenger cabin. Setting her feet, she pulled open the side sliding door. Wind rushed in, making her hair blow about.

"Vista!" she shouted above the howl of the turbines, "can you give me a closer line of sight to the base of that cloud of dust?"

Vista peered out into the night, bit her lip, then shouted, "Yes, I think I can!" She took a deep breath, held up her hands to frame her obvective, then concentrated.

Peering through the scope of the anti-material rifle, Miss Militia saw the scene leap toward her. With it came the sound of the battle; metallic roars of rage from Hookwolf, and bone-deep impacts, of his opponent's blows landing, smashing metal from his body.

She had never seen the other cape before; bronzed goggles, a tattered long-coat, cargo pants, heavy boots. Basically, a home-made costume. Long black curly hair. Under it all, a skinny teenager; boy or girl, she couldn't tell from this range. But she – Miss Militia decided to go with 'she', given the long hair – was holding her own against Hookwolf, at least for the moment. Home-made costume or no, she was landing blows that might make Alexandria wince.

However, there was nothing wrong with giving her a helping hand.

* * *

Hookwolf was in a full battle rage by now. He raised both arms – newly grown, again – to bring them down on this girl, smash her to the ground. There was a distant crack, a smashing impact; his left arm came off at the shoulder. This left an opening. Not a big one, but an opening all the same.

Taylor saw this, and came around with her hands clasped together in a hammer-punch; it impacted in the centre of Hookwolf's chest. The shockwave of the impact nearly flattened Shadow Stalker, several yards away. Hookwolf flew backward, shedding metal, until he sprawled to the ground, human and thoroughly unconscious.

Taylor sagged to her knees, shedding amps. She threw up, copiously, heaving until everything in her stomach was gone. Shadow Stalker was on her knees beside her, holding her hair out of the way.

"Oh god … oh god …" whimpered Taylor.

"I don't believe you just did that," murmured Sophia. "You just beat the living shit out of Hookwolf."

"I didn't want to fight him," Taylor said, shaking her head. "I didn't want to fight him."

"But you did," said Sophia. "You fought him, for me."

"Well, yeah," said Taylor. "Because you're you."

Sophia kissed her on the cheek. "And you're pretty badass." She looked up at the sound of incoming turbines. "We'd better bail. Can you walk?"

Taylor amped up a little, winced, but got up. "I can manage," she said. "Let's go." Limping just a little, she led the way into the shadows.

* * *

"So," said Armsmaster. "It appears that we have a new cape on the scene."

"And how," agreed Velocity. "Allegiance?"

"Uncertain," said Miss Militia. "I got a visual of her – I think it's a her – leaving the scene with Shadow Stalker, a known vigilante."

"Rating?" asked Dauntless.

"Brute," said Miss Militia with a decisive tone to her voice. "She went toe to toe with Hookwolf, and ended up knocking him cold. Took everything he could dish out, and gave back with more."

"High Brute, then," agreed Armsmaster.

"Course of action?" asked Miss Militia.

"Standard procedure," Armsmaster stated. "We maintain a watch on her public actions, build a profile. If her actions are to the public good, then we offer her a place in the Wards. If she's screwing around, we give her a warning."

Velocity frowned. "If she can take a hit from Hookwolf, much less go toe to toe with him, then she might not be amenable to reason."

Armsmaster patted his halberd. "Then we give her a _very loud_ warning."

* * *

Danny looked up as Sophia helped Taylor stumble in through the door. "Christ!" he exclaimed, bolting up from his chair. "What _happened?"_

Taylor grinned at him as she slumped on to the sofa. She had a few bruises on her face, and thin red lines under some of the tears in her sweater. She carried the tattered coat over one arm. She felt as though she'd been through a hammer-mill. Her hair was full of brick dust.

"We, uh, ran into some trouble," she explained.

"Some trouble?" asked Danny, getting the first aid kit. "Just 'some'?"

Sophia's eyes met Taylor's. "We, uh , ran into some Empire Eighty-Eight," said Sophia reluctantly. "And I got into a little fix, and then Taylor helped me out …"

"And that's how she got hurt?" asked Danny, helping Taylor ease off the sweater.

"No," said Taylor. "That happed when Hookwolf showed up."

"Hookwolf," said Danny flatly.

Sophia nodded. "Yeah, Hookwolf."

Danny looked at her. "What happened after Hookwolf showed up?"

Sophia shrugged. "Oh, nothing much," she said casually. "Taylor beat him up, and then we came home."

Danny's look of utter bogglement was _so_ worth it.

* * *

End of Part Five


	6. Chapter 6

**Shadow Stalker – Advent of a Hero**

* * *

Part Six: Introspection

* * *

Taylor was utterly shattered. She ate the meal Danny had kept back for her, while Sophia had some of the leftovers; by the time she had finished the last bite, she was distinctly drowsy. Danny nagged her into having a shower and dealing with the worst cuts – nothing was really serious, and she wasn't bleeding anywhere – and then told her to go to bed.

* * *

By the time Danny pulled the covers over her , she was fast asleep. He leaned down and kissed her on the forehead. "Sleep tight, kiddo," he murmured.

"And to think she didn't want to be a hero," commented Sophia from the doorway.

Danny looked around. "But she stepped up when you needed her to, right?"

She nodded. "Saved _my_ sorry ass." She went to take a step into the bedroom, paused. "Is it okay if I ... kiss her goodnight as well?"

Danny nodded. "Sure," he said. "I don't see why not."

Walking almost silently, she entered the bedroom and leaned over Taylor. "Good night," she whispered, and placed a delicate kiss on Taylor's lips.

Danny, watching, raised an eyebrow. Sophia flushed dark. "I like her," she muttered. "I like her a lot."

"So I see," he said dryly. "And does she like you ... a lot?"

She held off answering until they were out of the bedroom, Danny carefully shutting the door behind them, and halfway down the stairs.

"I think she does, a bit anyway," she said. "We've talked about it, and she hasn't pushed me away."

Danny picked up that she wasn't saying everything, but didn't call her on it.

"I'll give you a lift home," he said. "You've got to be tired out."

"I'll be fine," she said, and he saw the unbending pride that drove her, every hour of every day.

He shook his head. "Taylor would never forgive me if I didn't help you out."

As expected, she caved at the mention of Taylor. "Okay, fine," she said. "But only as far as my corner. Strange car drops me off, there'll be all sorts of questions."

He nodded solemnly. "Sure," he said. "How's the leg, by the way?"

* * *

"It's fine," she said, concealing a wince. Reminded of its existence, her leg had decided to twinge majorly. As had every other bump, bruise, scrape and cut she had suffered on this night.

"Good," he replied, and she looked at him suspiciously. Danny Hebert was not a stupid man, nor unobservant, but he had blandly accepted her statement at face value.

Mentally, she reassessed Taylor's father. There was more to him than met the eye.

* * *

"So," he said, after pulling out of the driveway. "Tell me about Taylor."

She blinked, staring at him. " ... sorry?" she asked.

He smiled, his teeth reflecting the street lights. "Taylor's my daughter, and I love her dearly, but even I can tell that she's changed since the thing happened with the ABB. Getting powers has changed her outlook. I'd appreciate your point of view. How do you see her?"

His voice was quiet, even. Not distracted by the motions of driving, which he had no doubt practised every day for longer than Sophia had been alive. But underneath, there was the same urgency that there had been in his frame when he hugged his daughter, safe home from battle.

_He wants to know how to connect with her again, _she realised. _Even as strong as she can be, as tough as she can be, he wants to protect her._

The realisation came to her as feeling a little alien. Her own father was no longer as close to the family as he might have been. She could see the writing on the wall; he would walk out one day, maybe soon, and never come back.

_Danny would never walk out on Taylor._

"I see her as ... strong. Confident." She thought for a moment. "She doesn't fear physical challenges, not any more. She's less hesitant than when we first met."

"She told you about her mother?"

Sophia nodded. "That really sucks. If I lost my mom ..."

He nodded. "She was hurting for a long time, after that. So was I. We were hardly talking for a while there." His voice was quiet, contemplative. "Then that ... thing, with the ABB."

"Motherfuckers," growled Sophia.

He didn't contradict her. "The realisation that we could have lost each other, that she could have been ..." _Raped. " ... _badly hurt ... it brought us back together. As a family."

It was her turn to nod. "She has nothing but good things to say about you."

He smiled again, faintly. "I'm glad. We never had that phase, you know, where kids are mortally embarrassed by their parents. Never happened." He paused. "How is it with you and your dad? What does he think about you and your powers?"

She shook her head. "He's barely home any more. And I haven't told him. Mom knows, but ... no, I can't tell him. I don't know how he'd even react."

Danny digested that. "A pity. I would much prefer to be there for Taylor. No matter what."

"Me too," she said, the words slipping out before she could stop them. She flushed darkly again, her face heating up.

"Hm," he said, the sound as much a chuckle as a grunt. "So ... question. How serious are you?"

"Serious?" she asked. _About Taylor? What do I say to that?_

He waited for her to continue, then when she didn't, he went on himself. "I guess what I'm asking is, is this just a bit of a crush, or is it ... more? Is it going to go away, or is it going to last?"

The bluntness of the question, out of the blue, floored her. "I ..." she began, then paused, searching for words.

"Because if it's just a temporary thing," he went on, "I'd really rather you make sure she knows about it. Taylor sometimes takes a while to make up her mind on something, but once she decides on it, she pulls out all the stops. And if you're just playing ..."

Silence then, punctuated only by the throb of the engine and the whistle of wind past the windows.

"I'm not," she said hastily. "I'm serious. She's ... out of my experience. I've never felt like this before. I've been attracted to maybe one or two other girls before, but ... she's someone I can respect, who won't back down from me. She'll call me on shit. She _has_ called me on shit."

"Unlike the others," he filled in.

"Unlike the others," she agreed. "They were happy to just let me be in charge, of the relationship, you know? And I thought I was happy with that. But there was something missing. And every time I pushed them, to see if they'd push back, they wouldn't. They'd let me push them around."

"And you need someone who pushes back," noted Danny.

"Right," she said. "No wimps need apply."

He snorted, then said, "Taylor says you have – or had – much the same attitude toward saving people when you're out and about."

She winced. "Yeah," she said in a small voice. "That was one of the things she's called me on. A lot."

"And do you think she has a point?" he asked gently.

She swallowed. "Well, she's not _weak._ She punched that girl over your truck even with a cut on her belly. And tonight, when I was down and in trouble, she took on Hookwolf to save me. Fought him to a standstill, then punched him out."

A deep breath. "I ... she's made me think. Wonder. If someone like her, who doesn't like to fight, could take down Hookwolf when she didn't even need to get into the fight ..." She didn't finish the statement.

Danny nodded. "She put herself in harm's way for you. What does that say about her, to you?"

She nodded. "Yeah," she said. "I get what you're saying. I should listen to her more." A frown. "Hookwolf didn't hurt her much, but he tore her coat up pretty good, and put some holes in the rest of her gear. Busted her goggles. Is that fixable?"

* * *

Danny nodded, accepting the change of topic. "Pretty easily, yeah," he told her. "We should be able to get more lenses with no problems. I guess it would be too convenient if whatever it is that's making her tougher extended to her clothing and gear as well."

Sophia frowned. "But it does. Sort of. Her gloves never got touched, and her boots were leaving footprints in concrete."

Danny blinked. "What, really?"

"Yeah, really," she said. "When she's amped up that high, she's kind of scary. It's like she's unstoppable in the literal meaning of the word. If she chooses to put her fist through a brick wall, the brick wall doesn't get a say in the matter."

"A brick wall ... or a person," said Danny slowly.

Sophia nodded. "And that's why she doesn't want to go out as a superhero," she said. "She's scared of doing just that."

"It _is_ a very real responsibility," Danny noted.

"Yeah." Sophia's voice was pensive. "Taylor keeps saying that, too."

Danny nodded, looking pleased, as he pulled the truck to a halt. "This is your corner?" he asked.

"Yeah, thanks," she said. "And thanks for the lift. I _was_ kinda beat."

He nodded. "Anytime."

She turned ghostly and faded out through the door of the truck, then turned solid and waved from outside the window of the still-closed door. He waved back, then put the truck into gear.

_She's a bit rough around the edges,_ he mused as he drove back toward his house, _but I think Taylor's being a good influence on her. A good kid at heart._

_Though I can't help but wonder how she would have turned out if she hadn't met Taylor._

_Badly, I suspect._

That was something to think about, on the way back.

* * *

Sophia stole soundlessly across the lawn and then turned ghostly in order to vault skyward and slip in through her bedroom window. She turned solid once inside, and went to stow the bag containing her costume and gear in the closet –

"And what kind of hour is this to be coming home, young lady?"

She spun around, hands up in a defensive gesture, until she recognised her mother, seated in the chair next to her desk. She had been so still that Sophia had not noticed her there, until she had spoken.

"Christ, don't frighten me like that!" she blurted, trying to keep her voice down.

Her mother frowned at the expletive, and stood. "Sophia," she said softly. "It's after three in the morning. I'm worried for your health. I'm worried for what you might meet out there."

She smiled and hugged her mother; she might be a nagging busybody, but she was still Mom, and Sophia still loved her. "It's cool, Mom," she said. "I was out with that other girl I told you about, that cape. Her name's Breaker. She made sure I didn't get in too much trouble."

"And what does that mean, exactly?" asked her mother bluntly.

"Well, we ran into some Empire Eighty-Eight," confessed Sophia. "And when we beat them up, they went away and came back with Hookwolf."

Her mother's eyes went wide. "And what did you do then?"

"Uh ... she beat him up, and the Protectorate took him into custody," explained Sophia.

Her mother's eyes could not have gotten much wider. "Beat him ... up?" she managed.

"Punched the racist motherfucker till he fell down," Sophia said cheerfully.

"Sophia! Language!" snapped her mother, but her heart wasn't in it. She paused. "She knocked down ... _Hookwolf?_ I didn't know that was even possible."

Sophia shrugged. "I didn't either. I just wanted to get away. It didn't turn out that way.". She sat down on the bed with a muted groan. "I took a couple of hits too. Give me a hand here?"

"Only if you tell me the rest of the story," said her mother, closing the door and turning on the light. "I want to hear all about this Breaker girl, and how she punched out Hookwolf."

"Okay, Mom," Sophia agreed with a grin. She fetched the first-ad kit out from undef the bed and handed it to her mother, then started to pull her top off. "Well the first thing is, you'd never know that she's as strong as she is. She's so skinny ..."

* * *

Taylor stirred and rolled over in bed. It was so soft and comfortable; she didn't want to have to move. But biological imperatives had to be met, and so she pushed back the covers and rolled out of bed.

"Ow," she groaned. "Ow, ow, ow, ow." With every movement, every flexing of her body, a muscle or a joint complained. With a gait more appropriate to an aged chimpanzee than an adolescent human, she made her way to the bathroom and did what needed to be done.

By the time she got back to the bedroom, she was starting to move more like a member of the human race. Delicious odours wafted up from downstairs, as her father cooked breakfast.

_Oh god, that smells good._

* * *

He looked up as she stumbled into the kitchen, still in her pyjamas, looking more than a little like something the cat might leave on the back step.

"Morning, kiddo," he said cheerfully, flipping a pancake without looking.

"Morning, Dad," she mumbled, taking the jug of orange juice from the fridge and pouring herself a large glass full.

"How are we feeling this morning?" he asked with a grin.

She must have realised he was teasing her, because she stuck her tongue out at him. Then she drank the orange juice.

"All I can say is," she said once she finished, "I just hope Hookwolf is feeling worse."

"He got taken down hard by a thirteen year old girl," Danny commented. "I'd be astonished if he _wasn't."_

She crossed her arms and laid her head down on them. "He probably doesn't realise that," she murmured. "Probably figures I'm six foot six and built like Armsmaster."

"Hey now, no going to sleep at the table," he warned her. "Go shower or something. Go take a run. Wake yourself up. Remember, school starts again tomorrow."

"Urgh," she mumbled. "I did not need that reminder."

Grudgingly, she got up from the table and headed upstairs. Soon, he heard the shower running.

* * *

Taylor gasped at the sting of the water on her skin; it seemed to her that every inch of her body was bruised, or almost so. Tiny scabbed cuts here and there reminded her of the ferocity of Hookwolf's assaults, and she marvelled again at the ability of her powers to help her withstand such damage.

She tried cataloguing the pulled muscles, the aching joints, the sore areas. But soon she gave up, and instead did her best to work out what parts of her _didn't_ hurt. There weren't many of these. She was fairly certain her left earlobe hadn't taken a hit, but there weren't many other places on her body that had been left unscathed.

Slowly and carefully, she washed herself, being careful with the scrapes and cuts. She winced, but made sure that they were clean. The hot water gradually unkinked her muscles, so by the time she stepped out of the tub, she was feeling almost human.

* * *

Danny watched her enter the kitchen a second time; this time, she was wearing a t-shirt and jeans, and didn't wince every time she moved. He placed pancakes before her, and she grinned up at him.

"Thanks, Dad," she said. "I probably would've fallen asleep with my face in my food if I hadn't had that shower."

He nodded and ruffled her hair. "We couldn't have that," he agreed. He paused. "Was it very ... bad? I got a little of the explanation from you and Sophia last night, but I couldn't help feeling that you were leaving out some of the details, so as to spare your dear old Dad."

She took a deep breath. "Yeah, Dad," she said. "It wasn't fun. It wasn't a _nice_ battle, like you see on the Saturday morning cartoons. No clever quips, no honourable enemies. Just some gang members who wanted to rob some innocent folk, and who wanted to hurt and kill Sophia because of her skin colour. And Hookwolf ..." She shuddered.

"That bad, huh?" he asked quietly.

She nodded. "He just wanted to ... _kill_ me. No quarter, no calling it a draw. He was going all-out to end me. Because I got in his way, made him look bad."

He got up from his seat, went around to her side of the table, hugged her. She hugged him back. "So what are you going to do now?" he asked.

"Well until I can get a replacement coat and goggles, I won't be going out again," she said. "Give me a couple of days, the cuts and bruises should be good." She paused. "Tomorrow is school start. I might wear long sleeves, otherwise people might see the bruises and wonder."

Danny shrugged. "Tell 'em you got in a fight."

She nodded. "Well, that much is true." Another pause. "And oh God, Sophia's probably going to tell Emma that I was fighting half the capes in Empire Eighty-Eight, all at once."

"Hm," commented Danny. "She did seem very ... impressed by you. Exceedingly so."

Taylor shrugged her shoulders slightly. "I _did_ kind of save her life," she pointed out.

"That will usually do it," he agreed with a nod, then paused. "So ... have you come to a decision yet?"

"What about?" she asked with a guilty start. _Does he know about me and Sophia?_

"Whether you're going to be a superhero or not," he said.

_Phew._ "Still deciding," she said honestly. "It's not something I want to jump into lightly. I mean, I've got the powers, but I barely know how and why they work. Or why it's uncomfortable to use them too much, or for too long."

"I can understand that," he agreed. He paused, waiting until she had finished the glass of orange juice and was about to put it down, before casually adding, "So when are you going on a date with Sophia? She seems pretty serious about you."

He had judged it to a nicety; she didn't inhale the juice into her lungs, or spray it over the table. She just froze for a telling moment, then put her glass down. "Soon, I think," she said, trying to match his casual attitude. "I'm still making up my mind about how I feel about her."

"It's not fair to make her wait too long for a yes ... or a no," he warned her. "I'm sure she would be happy being just friends, if you told her you weren't interested."

She nodded. "I've told her that I'm willing to go on a date with her, but that she's not to get too grabby with me."

He nodded approval. "Good," he said. "I get the impression that she doesn't listen much to what other people say, and this could get her in trouble. With your influence, she may just straighten up and fly right."

"Great," she grumbled. "Now I'm the moral compass to a superhero."

"There _are_ worse things to be," he pointed out.

And she could not help but agree.

* * *

End of Part Six


	7. Chapter 7

**Shadow Stalker - Advent of a Hero**

* * *

Part 7 – the Date, Part 1

* * *

The phone rang. Danny muted the TV, got up from the sofa and went into the kitchen.

"Hebert residence, Danny speaking."

_"Hi, Mr Hebert. This is Sophia."_

"Hello, Sophia," he replied. "It's nice to hear from you again. Are you looking for Taylor?"

_"Yes, please," _Sophia answered. _"Can you put her on, please?"_

_Damn, _thought Danny. _Saying 'please' twice in a row. She really wants to talk to Taylor._

"Sorry," he told her, "she's out on her run at the moment. She should be back any moment, though. Would you like me to ask her to call back?"

"_Uh, sure,"_ blurted Sophia. _"That would be great, thanks."_

Danny grinned. "I'll do that, then," he told her. "Talk to you later."

Hanging up, he went back to the sofa.

_I always knew I'd be doing this someday for Taylor, _he mused. _But somehow I thought it would be a boy calling up to talk to her._ He grinned again. _It's still very funny. I suspect I'm enjoying this more than I should._

Still grinning, he sat back on the sofa and turned up the sound again.

* * *

Taylor stumbled on the home stretch. Her body was hurting all over, partly from the aftermath of the fight, and partly from the exertion of the run. Every ache, pain, abrasion and cut that had been soothed by the shower was now making itself known again.

Grimly, she rallied. Only a block to go. _If I'm going to use my powers properly, I need to be in shape._

It was so tempting to cut in some amp, to draw strength from whatever well her powers came from, to make this easier on herself. But she didn't; she carried on regardless. Sweating, panting, stumbling, she made her way in through the chain-link gate at the side of the house and up the back steps.

* * *

Danny heard her come in, and got up off the sofa.

"Christ, kiddo," he said, as she paused at the fridge to pour some cold water into a cup and gulp it down, "you look like hell. I've seen buddies on the morning after a hard night of drinking in better shape than you."

She put the water back and grinned at him. "Yeah," she said, "I feel like crap, too. But I made it. And if I can make it after what happened last night, I can make it any time. Now, I think, it's time for my second shower of the day. If I'm not out in half an hour, call the paramedics."

She stumbled up the stairs; in a few moments, he heard the shower running.

_Should I have told her that Sophia rang?_ he wondered. _Nah, let her freshen up first._

* * *

She wandered downstairs in T-shirt and jeans about twenty minutes later, looking much refreshed. He had spent the intervening time wisely; there was a pitcher of fruit juice with ice cubes in it, perched on the ottoman in front of the sofa.

"Ooh, thanks, Dad," she said happily, and retrieved a glass from the kitchen. Sitting down beside him, she poured herself some juice, and drank it down. "Oh, that's nice."

He nodded. "That _was_ the idea." A pause. "Just by the by, you got a phone call while you were out. Sophia wants to talk to you, apparently."

She stared at him. "And you didn't tell me till _now?"_

He shrugged slightly. "Would you have taken the time to relax and recover from your run if you'd known? Now you're all refreshed and …" But he was talking to her back; she was already heading into the kitchen.

* * *

Sophia's mobile rang. She grabbed for it, saw the name _Hebert_ on the display.

"Hello?"

"_Hey, Soph,"_ she heard Taylor's voice. _"Sorry it took me so long to call you back. Dad only told me after I got out of the shower."_

"It's okay," said Sophia. "I don't mind, really." In her mind, she conjured an image of Taylor in the shower. Then she conjured an image of her _and_ Taylor in the shower. It was so compelling that she missed what Taylor said next.

"Sorry, what did you say?" she asked, embarrassed.

Taylor chuckled. _"I was just asking you why you were calling me. You want to talk, to hang out, to go do something? I won't be able to go out as Breaker until Dad can get me new costume bits, and new lenses for my goggles."_

"I, uh," said Sophia, "wanted to ask you if you wanted to do that date."

"_Date?"_ asked Taylor. _"Oh yeah, the date. Cool. We can do that. When did you want to do it?"_ She paused. _"Probably not tonight. School tomorrow."_

"How about today?" asked Sophia. "Uh, the movies or something?" _People go to the movies on dates, right? _She had some idea that they did.

"_Sure, we could do the movies,"_ agreed Taylor. Sophia heard her put her hand over the mouthpiece of the phone, and her voice could be faintly heard calling to her father.

* * *

"Dad," said Taylor, hand over the mouthpiece and leaning out of the kitchen, "is it okay if I go to the movies with Sophia?"

Danny considered this. "Not going to be out too late?" he asked.

"No, I think she means a midday or afternoon show," said Taylor. "Wait a minute, I'll ask."

* * *

"_When were you thinking of going?"_ asked Taylor abruptly in her ear.

"Um, whenever you wanted," said Sophia.

"_So a midday or afternoon show would be good with you?"_ Taylor clarified.

"Sure, that'd be great," Sophia replied, grinning all over her face. "That would be awesome."

"_Did you want to get your dad to pick me up, or should I get my dad to pick you up?"_ asked Taylor practically.

Sophia considered the options. It was Sunday; her father was probably already at the bar, drinking. So he would have taken the car. She leaned up to her bedroom window, looked out at the driveway. _Yup, car's gone._

"Um, if your dad could bring you to pick me up, that would be awesome," she said hesitantly. "I really hate to ask you to do this for me …"

Taylor chuckled. _"I don't think it'll be a problem. I think he likes you. Wait a second."_

* * *

"Uh, Dad?" she asked, leaning around the doorway again.

He knew what she was going to ask, but decided to let her sweat. "Yes, Taylor?"

"Is it okay if you take me and Soph to the movies? That is, drop us off? She wants to do a daytime show."

He rubbed his chin, pretended to think. "I _suppose,"_ he allowed. "Heck, I might come along too. It's been a while since I've been to the movies."

She giggled. "That's _mean,_ Dad. Sophia probably wants to hold hands or something, and if you're there, she'll be too embarrassed."

"And you?" he asked.

"And me what?" she responded.

"Do you want to hold hands with Sophia?"

She grinned at him. "Maybe."

He chuckled. "Sure, okay. I can be your taxi. Just give me a ring when you want a lift back, okay?"

She nodded vigorously. "Sure, thanks, Dad."

* * *

This side conversation was going on so long, Sophia began to wonder if Taylor was arguing with her father. But then she came back on the line.

"_Still there, Soph?"_ she asked.

"Still here," Sophia agreed. "What's the verdict?"

"_Dad says okay to the date, and he'll bring me around to pick you up,"_ Taylor told her. _"When do you want us there by?"_

"Um, midday?" asked Sophia. She desperately wanted to name an earlier time, but she didn't want to push matters.

"_We can do midday,"_ agreed Taylor. _"See you then."_

"Sure," agreed Sophia. "See you then."

She carefully ended the call, then leaped off of her bed and did a little victory dance of pure joy.

_I'm going on a date. With Taylor._

_My life is complete._

* * *

"Uh … Mom?" she said, about twenty minutes later.

Her mother looked up from where she was reading the paper on the sofa. Terry was on the other end of the sofa with their baby sister on his lap, tickling her so that she giggled.

"Yes, Sophia?" asked her mother.

"I've, uh, made a date to go out with a friend of mine, Taylor. Her dad will be driving us to the movies around midday. Uh … that's okay, isn't it?"

Terry's head swivelled around. Sophia could see the look of pure glee spreading across his face. _Oh boy,_ she thought. _Here it comes._

"Taylor?" asked her mother, putting the paper down. "Do I know her?"

Sophia shook her head. "I met her awhile ago," she said, for Terry's sake. "I was telling you about her last night, remember?"

Her mother looked blank for a moment, then memory sparked. "Ah," she said. "_That_ Taylor."

Sophia nodded. "That's okay, isn't it?" she reiterated.

"So long as you're home by six," she was told. "School starts tomorrow, so no staying out late." _Even for your cape stuff, _ her mother didn't add.

"Sure, Mom," she agreed readily.

"So, Soph," said Terry cheerfully. "_That_ Taylor, huh? Someone special, huh? New girlfriend?"

"Shut up," she retorted, her cheeks flushing dark. "None of your business, dipweed."

He grinned at her. "Does she know how fast you've gone through your previous ones?"

"Shut up," she reiterated, flushing even more. "Mom, make him leave me alone."

"Leave Sophia alone, Terry," her mother said mildly, picking up the paper again.

"Does she even know how many girlfriends you've _had?"_ he asked. He wasn't a bad guy, really, but he did like to needle her about her girlfriends.

"Shut _up!"_ she said, a little more sharply than she intended. Her baby sister stopped chortling and began to whimper. "Oh, sorry," she said hurriedly. "I didn't mean to shout."

"You're a bad, bad person, Sophia Hess," Terry teased her, even as he soothed the infant again. "You go through girlfriends like wildfire, and you frighten babies."

"I do not," she replied, finding that it was hard to say something with emphasis while still keeping it quiet. "I've only had three girlfriends."

"And all in your last semester of middle school, for shame," Terry grinned.

"More than you've had in the last three years," she shot back, then darted upstairs to start getting ready. She wanted to look just right for Taylor.

* * *

"Do I look all right?" asked Taylor nervously.

Danny turned to watch her descend the stairs. "You're wearing a dress," he observed bemusedly.

"What if I am?" she said defensively. "I want to look nice."

"Just saying, you can look nice in jeans," he pointed out. "It's just that … I've rarely seen you willingly put on a dress. Kind of a first."

"So you don't think it looks all right?" she asked, biting her lip.

He chuckled. "Kiddo, I think you look gorgeous. But aren't you overthinking this a bit? I thought you weren't as interested in Sophia as she is in you."

She nodded. "Yeah, but … I don't want her thinking I'm _not_ interested in her, you know?"

He raised an eyebrow. "So you do like her, then?"

She nodded, flushing pink. "Yeah. I like her. I like being with her. Sometimes she drops that hard exterior and I get to see the nice girl underneath, and I really, really like that girl."

It was his turn to nod judiciously. "And you think that girl is coming out more often?"

Her answer was prompt and earnest. "Oh yeah," she agreed. "Sophia's just got to learn to … well, let go."

"Sounds about right," agreed Danny. "What time do you want to be going?"

"About half past eleven?" hazarded Taylor. "But is my dress really okay?"

"Taylor, honey," said Danny. "Take it from me, you look as pretty as a picture."

She smiled; it was like the sun coming out. He hadn't seen that smile for the last year, ever since Anne-Rose had died, but it was starting to come out more and more, ever since they had met Sophia on that muggy afternoon.

He would not have picked them for potential friends, much less girlfriends, but then, he mused, it took all kinds to make a world. And if it took Sophia courting her to bring light back into her life, then he was all for it.

"Thanks, Dad," she said, then paused. "Should I put on makeup?"

He chuckled. "Kiddo, neither one of us has the faintest idea of how to do makeup properly, and Sophia's seen your face a thousand times without makeup anyway. I think she'll be surprised enough to see you in a dress."

She nodded. "Thanks. That makes sense." She ran up the stairs again, leaving him bemused on the sofa once more.

_My little girl's first date,_ he realised. _Who knew. Somehow I always thought she'd be bringing boys home. Not girls. And especially not girls who go out and beat people up._

He shrugged. _Ah well. It takes all kinds to make a world. And Sophia is starting to show promise. I can't fault her on her choices._

* * *

Sophia was dressed and ready at half past eleven. At eleven forty-five, she ventured downstairs.

Her mother had gone out for groceries, but Terry was still there, watching TV. He frankly stared at her.

"Holy crap, sis," he said. "You going to the prom or something?"

She flushed dark again. "I'm allowed to look nice," she retorted.

"Yeah," he said, "but there's looking nice, and then there's getting done up to the nines." He leaned forward on the sofa, peering at her. "You've got _makeup_ on."

"Oh, shut up," she said. "Leave me alone."

"Wow," he said, leaning back again. "I was right. This Taylor's someone special, isn't she? I don't recall you getting this dressed up for any of your other girlfriends."

"Maybe she is," she muttered. "None of your business."

"Damn," he said, running his hands through his hair. "Now I want to meet her. See who this paragon is who can make my sister actually get dressed up for a date."

"Don't you dare say a thing to her," she snapped. "Taylor's a _nice_ girl. None of your stupid jokes. I like her a lot. I don't want you ruining it for me."

"Would I do a thing like that?" asked Terry, acting wounded.

"Yes, you would," she snapped. "In a hot New York minute."

He grinned. "Maybe." Then he paused. "So have you pounced on her in the bathroom yet? I seem to recall that was your signature move. I certainly heard about it from your exes."

"Terry!" she protested, cheeks flushing darker than ever.

"Well, have you?" he pressed.

" ... tried to," she admitted.

"And?" he urged. "C'mon, juicy details."

"She wouldn't let me," she admitted in a small voice.

"And you didn't just monster her anyway?" he asked.

She wrinkled her nose at him, then looked away. "She's stronger than she looks."

He raised an eyebrow. "So are you."

She shook her head. "I'm not getting into this with you, Terry. She's not my girlfriend, not yet. But we're getting there. And I don't want you spoiling it for me."

"Wow," he said. "The infamous Sophia Hess, tamed at last. I have _got_ to meet this girl."

He chuckled as she gave him the finger.

"Screw you," she said without heat. "Say one thing – _one thing_ – to spoil things for me, and I swear, I will make your life a living hell. Every date you go out with is going to find out about your visits to the VD clinic and your liking for small furry animals and duct tape."

"But I don't –" he began.

"Nope," she agreed. "But I can plant evidence. We can go there, if you like. Just screw me over with Taylor just _once."_

"Okay, okay," he said, raising his hands in mock surrender. "I give. But I do want to meet her. Make sure her intentions toward my little sister are totally honourable."

"Trust me," she sighed, "they are."_ Even if I don't want them to be._

* * *

Sophia jumped up at the knock on the door. But Terry was there first. Even as she made for the door, he opened it.

"Hi," he said to the girl who stood on the doorstep. "Would you be Taylor?"

The girl blinked behind her large round-lensed glasses. She wore a brightly-coloured sundress which set off her figure, such as it was. Her dark curly hair was fixed back with a sky-blue headband. She was a bit taller than Sophia, but then, the runt had some growing to do.

"Uh, yes, that's me," she ventured. "You would be Terry?"

"The one and only," he greeted her. "Pleased to meet you." He offered his hand.

* * *

Taylor accepted his hand, and shook. She felt him applying a little pressure, just testing, so she applied pressure right back. He applied more. She added a level of amp, and squeezed. He winced, and didn't push it any more.

"Wow," he said. "Sophia said you were stronger than you looked. She wasn't kidding."

"I work out," she said blandly.

And then Terry was gone, shoved to one side, and Sophia was standing there, looking just a little flustered.

"Wow," said Taylor. "You're wearing a dress. I've never seen you in a dress."

"Is it bad?" asked Sophia. "Should I change?"

"No, no," Taylor assured her. "You look ..."

_Sexy. Awesome. Cute. Like someone I really want to go out with. Like the Sophia under the hard exterior, who I want to know better._

"... really nice," she concluded.

"So do you," responded Sophia. "I mean, really, really nice." She paused. "Not that you don't look really nice all the time, but ..." She trailed off, blushing dark.

Taylor smiled. "Thanks," she said. "Shall we go?"

"Mom's down at the shops," interjected Terry. "She wanted to meet you," he added over Sophia's shoulder, to Taylor.

"She can meet her when Taylor and her dad drop me off from the date," said Sophia. "Yes, we can go. Please."

Taylor reached out and took her hand, and they walked down the path to the front gate. Danny was waiting alongside the truck, and as they stepped on to the pavement, he opened the door with a flourish that almost ended in a bow.

"Miladies," he said with a grin. "Your pumpkin carriage awaits. More pumpkin than carriage, I'm afraid."

Sophia giggled. She noted that the trash had been cleaned out of the footwell, and the seat appeared to have been wiped down. "Thank you," she said, and allowed Danny to hand her into the vehicle.

Taylor turned and waved at the door. "By, Terry," she called. "I'll bring her back safe and sound."

He waved back. "You better," he replied with a grin.

Taylor chuckled and climbed in after Sophia, and Danny helped her shut the door without catching her dress in it.

"Skirts are way too much trouble," observed Sophia.

"I know, right?" agreed Taylor. "Why did you wear one?"

"Because I wanted to look nice for the date," said Sophia, shyly.

Taylor leaned in and kissed her very lightly on the lips. "You do," she said softly. "You really do."

Sophia sighed and leaned against Taylor. "So do you," she murmured.

Danny climbed in to the driver's seat. "Now, now, no making out in the car," he said mildly. "Wait till you get to the theatre."

Taylor choked with laughter. _"What_ did you say?" she asked.

"You heard," he replied with a grin, and started the truck.

* * *

He dropped them off outside the cinema. "Now, you've got money for tickets and snacks?" he asked.

"Yes, Dad," said Taylor. "Sophia?"

Sophia nodded. "Mom gave me an advance on my allowance."

"And Sophia, you've got your mobile so you can call when you need me to pick you up?" he asked next.

Sophia nodded. "I do," she confirmed.

"And what's your curfew?" he asked.

"Six," she told him.

"So call no later than five fifteen, so I got time to get to you, and get you home, okay?" he said seriously. "I don't want you getting in trouble because I'm late getting you home."

She nodded. "I can do that. Thanks, Mr Hebert."

He nodded. "You two have fun."

"Thanks, Dad," said Taylor cheerfully. "We will." She shut the door and watched as the truck pulled into traffic and drove away.

* * *

Turning to face Sophia, she was surprised when the shorter girl grabbed her in a hug.

She returned the hug, holding Sophia closely. It felt nice.

"Not that I don't like this," she ventured, "but what's this about?"

"Thank you for coming on this date," whispered Sophia. "Even if the movie's terrible, even if everything goes wrong from here on, I'm just glad we're here."

Taylor smiled down at Sophia. "Hey," she said softly. "I'm glad to be here with you too. And it's gonna be a great date. Because it's you and me. And nothing _ever_ goes wrong when we go out."

Sophia snorted with amusement, then Taylor tilted her chin up and kissed her, just once, lightly, on the lips. Sophia shivered and closed her eyes, melting into Taylor's arms.

Taylor held her for a few moments, uncaring of the people who were walking past, some giving them amused looks. Then she disengaged from the hug and took Sophia by the hand.

"Come on," she said, "let's go to the movies."

Hand in hand, they entered the cinema.

* * *

End of Part Seven


End file.
